G/h  Javelin/ 


**s 

Gould  Jincoln 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Javelin  of  Fate 


by 
Jeanie  Gould  Lincoln 

Author  of'Marjorie's  Attest,'''  "An  Unwilling  Mead, 
"A  Pretty  Tory,"  fife. 


"  He  who  will  not  when  he  may, 
When  he  will,  he  shall  have  nay." 

Old  Englith  prwtrb 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

Che  ftmersi&e  pres$,  Cambridge 
1905 


COPYRIGHT  190$  BY  JEANIE  GOULD  LINCOLN 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


Published  November  igof 


TS 


TO   N.  O.  T. 

To  her  who  shared  my  rapture  and  delight 
When  o'er  my  life  its  brightest  sunshine  fell ; 

To  her  who  shares  with  me  the  lonely  night, 
And,  sharing  thus,  her  love  the  clouds  dispel. 

Washington,  D.  C. 
August  -5,  1905. 


Contents 


PROLOGUE 

I.    In  the  Virginia  Mountains     .  .        i 

II.    Marah n 

eo  AFTER  TWENTY  YEARS 

fez 

I.    At  Conrad's  Ferry         .         .  .25 

II.    Mrs.  Vansittart's  Ball        .  .         38 

III.  The  Man  who  Vanished         .  .     63 

IV.  A  Daughter  of  Eve  .         .  .         82 
V.    The  Web  of  Circumstance   .  .102 

VI.    A  Dangerous  Hazard         .  .        112 

w     VII.    The  Misadventures  of  a  Night  .   132 

§    VIII.    Petit  Jean  Gossips    .         .  155 

IX.    From  the  War  Office  .          .  .169 

3         X.    By  Woman's  Wit    .         .  .184 

XI.    At  Peyton  Hall    .         .         .  .200 

g      XII.    Face  to  Face    ....       215 

XIII.    At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve       .  .  238 

|     XIV.    The  Mills  of  the  Gods      .  .       248 

^       XV.    The  Rankest  Rebel      .         .  .259 

XVI.    The  Javelin  Strikes  .         .  .284 


449797 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


PROLOGUE 


Chapter  I 

In  the  Virginia  Mountains 

"  EF  yo'  don'  hurry  a  little,  Uncle  Cy, 
them  hens  won't  never  get  inside  the 
shed  'fo'  the  storm,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  in 
the  soft  musical  drawl  which  seemed 
to  suit  her  ample  chest  as  it  ended  with 
a  faint  chuckle  that  is  indescribable. 
"  'Pears  like  we  was  fittin'  f o'  a  second 
Deluge,  judgin'  by  the  last  fortnight's 
rains,  an'  thar  ain't  no  possible  way  as  I 
can  study  out  fo'  climbin'  the  mountain, 
even  'lowin'  that  the  Ark  an'  ole  Massa 
Noah  was  waitin'  at  the  top  to  take  yo' 
an'  me  'mong  the  passengers." 

"Hi!  Shoo,  shoo!  "  responded  Uncle 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


Cyrus,  obediently  pursuing  the  three 
hens  who  were  ducking  in  and  out  of 
the  bushes  at  the  back  of  the  cabin. 
"Kin  yo'  'tend  to  dat  yaller  rooster, 
Polly?  He's  done  hid  hisself  'hind  yo' 
bar'l  ob  rain-water,  an'  he  '11  dodge 
roun'  an'  roun'  unless  yo'  head  him  off 
mighty  spry." 

Aunt  Polly's  chuckle  deepened  into 
a  laugh  as  she  stepped  cautiously  out 
side  the  cabin  door  and  produced  from 
her  pocket  a  few  grains  of  corn  which 
she  threw  invitingly  in  front  of  her. 
The  hens,  recognizing  the  familiar 
sound,  responded  by  a  wild  and  simul 
taneous  rush  in  her  direction,  tumbling 
over  each  other  in  their  eagerness,  but 
the  yellow  rooster,  having  cautiously 
extended  his  beak  and  one  claw  in  pro 
file  around  the  barrel,  promptly  re 
treated  behind  it  with  a  defiant  crow 
which  completed  Uncle  Cy's  discom 
fiture. 


In  the  Virginia  Mountains 

"  'T  ain't  no  use,"  grumbled  he,  as 
the  second  hen  bounded  into  the  friendly 
shelter  of  the  shed  with  a  final  cluck; 
"  dere  's  nuffin'  what  '11  fotch  dat  rooster 
'cept  some  pieces  ob  watermealyon 
rind.  Did  yo'  clar  'em  up  after  dinner, 
Polly?" 

"Go  'long,  Cy;  d'yo'  'spose  I  didn't 
remember  'bout  that  ?  The  rinds  is 
standin'  on  the  shelf  'longside  the  milk- 
in'  pail ;  jest  yo'  get  'em  an'  I  '11  watch 
the  rooster'  till  yo'  come  back.  Be  spry, 
now;  land  alive,  that's  a  mighty  black 
cloud  settlin'  on  top  Silver  Mountain." 

Silver  Mountain,  so  called  from  an 
abandoned  mine,  partly  prospected,  from 
which  its  owners  had  been  driven  by 
lack  of  funds,  was  a  spur  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  Mountains  running  down  into 
the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and  there  had 
been  quite  a  little  village  of  huts  and 
cabins  at  its  foot  during  the  running 
days,  which  were  abandoned  when  the 
3 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


company  failed.  Times  were  better 
now,  and  a  small  but  quite  thriving 
town  lay  to  the  west  of  it.  Upon  the 
mountain  road  above  there  were  few 
houses.  The  nearest  neighbors  that 
Uncle  Cyrus  and  Aunt  Polly  laid  claim 
to  were  five  miles  lower  down,  and  con 
sisted  of  half  a  dozen  white  families, 
old  denizens  of  the  mountains,  a  store, 
and  a  few  negro  cabins.  Four  years 
previous  the  pair  had  appeared  on  the 
mountain,  selected  their  location,  and, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  few  friendly  ne 
groes  from  the  village,  Uncle  Cy  had 
put  up  his  cabin  and  bestowed  within 
it  what  few  belongings  he  had  brought 
in  the  cart  which  carried  them  thither. 
Over  at  "  the  store "  people  said  that 
Aunt  Polly  was  a  manumitted  slave, 
and  her  superior  air  and  manner,  her 
more  carefully  spoken  language,  to 
gether  with  her  straight  black  hair  and 
olive-brown  skin,  seemed  to  give  an  air 
4 


In  the  Virginia  Mountains 

of  truth  to  the  story.  She  was  still 
comely,  looking  even  younger  than 
her  forty  years.  Her  capabilities  as 
a  nurse  and  skill  in  handling  the  sick 
made  her  in  great  demand  among  the 
mountaineers,  especially  with  children, 
of  whom  she  was  unusually  fond  and 
tender. 

The  yellow  rooster  obstinately  main 
tained  his  position,  deaf  to  Aunt  Polly's 
coaxing  voice,  aided  by  an  inviting  scrap 
of  watermelon  thrown  artfully  in  the 
path  to  the  shed,  and  the  rain  began  to 
fall  in  great  drops  as  the  wind  tore  and 
rushed  through  the  tall  trees  which 
rocked  behind  the  cabin  and  down  past 
the  clearing  at  the  turn  of  the  road. 

"  I  declare  for  it,"  called  Aunt  Polly, 
raising  her  voice,  as  Uncle  Cy  stood 
holding  the  door  of  the  shed,  "  I  've  a 
mind  to  let  that  fool  rooster  jes'  stay  out 
for  to  punish  him." 

"Hi!  dat's  a  mighty  big  one,"  cried 
5 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Uncle  Cy,  as  vivid  lightning  flashed 
through  the  heavy  air,  and  a  crash  of 
thunder  rolled  down  the  mountain  side. 
"Come  'long  inside,  Polly;  I '11  ketch 
him  now,  suah." 

"Hark!  there's  some  one  coming 
down  the  road,  Cy."  Aunt  Polly's 
quick  ears  caught  an  unusual  sound, 
and  the  pair  paused  on  the  threshold  of 
the  cabin.  "  The  good  Lawd  save  us, 
what's  that?" 

It  was  a  voice  —  a  woman's  —  raised 
in  a  shriek  of  such  agony  and  terror  that 
it  rose  even  above  the  howling  of  the 
wind,  and  as  it  suddenly  ceased  there 
came  in  view  around  the  bend  of  the 
mountain  road  a  pair  of  maddened 
horses  and  a  rough  two-seated  wagon. 
Standing  in  it,  bareheaded,  was  the  fig 
ure  of  a  girl,  and  as  the  wagon  swayed 
from  side  to  side,  she  dropped  the  reins 
and  poised  herself  as  if  for  a  leap. 

"  Don'  do  it,  honey,"  shrieked  Uncle 
6 


In  the  Virginia  Mountains 

Cy,  running  toward  the  flying  horses; 
but  almost  before  the  warning  was  spo 
ken  the  crash  came,  and  the  team  van 
ished  around  the  upward  path,  leaving  a 
senseless  figure  on  the  road  at  his  feet, 
as  the  tempest  burst  overhead  with  a 
howling  violence  which,  accustomed 
though  he  was  to  such  storms,  almost 
appalled  Uncle  Cy. 

Standing  inside  the  door,  which  she 
had  prudently  closed  lest  the  cabin 
should  be  deluged  with  water,  Aunt 
Polly  waited  for  Uncle  Cy's  voice  out 
side,  and  presently  she  heard  him,  pant 
ing  from  excitement  and  fatigue,  at  the 
threshold. 

"  Open,  quick,  Polly,  f  o'  de  lan's  sake ; 
she  's  mighty  light,  but  'pears  de  wind 
'ull  drag  her  out  of  my  arms  ef  yo'  ain't 
spry." 

Planting  her  portly  person  against  the 
door  to  prevent  too  sudden  opening  for 
the  wind  (which  might  wrench  it  from 
7 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  hinges),  Aunt  Polly  slowly  retreated 
as  Uncle  Cy  pushed  cautiously  inside, 
and  staggered  breathlessly  toward  the 
rather  rickety  calico-covered  couch 
which  adorned  one  side  of  the  room. 

"Pore  chile;  she  looks  like  she  was 
daid.  Jest  lay  her  down  comfortable,  an' 
help  me  fasten  dis  yer  door,  Cy.  D'  ye 
know  whose  team  that  was  ?  "  said  Aunt 
Polly. 

"  Dere  won'  be  no  stoppin'  dose 
horses  till  dey  gets  to  de  clarin',  ef  dey 
don'  plunge  off  de  precipice,  Polly. 
'Pears  to  me  'twas  Kiah  Peaseley's 
wagon.  I  done  tole  him  las'  month  ef  he 
would  buy  dem  colts  dey  is  boun'  to  make 
him  pay  fo'  his  foolishness,  but  yo'  can't 
argufy  wif  a  man  'bout  horses,  never." 

Aunt  Polly  apparently  paid  no  heed 
to  his  reply,  for  her  deft  hands  were 
busy  with  the  fainting  girl,  who  lay  mo 
tionless  on  the  rough  bed  where  Cy  had 
placed  her;  the  long  dark  hair  had 
8 


In  the  Virginia  Mountains 

blown  back  from  her  face,  which  was 
more  than  usually  beautiful,  and  the 
waxen  pallor  that  overspread  it  began 
to  alarm  Aunt  Polly,  experienced  nurse 
that  she  was. 

"  'T  ain't  no  use  keepin'  her  here,  Cy," 
she  said.  "Jes'  help  me  carry  her  into 
the  oder  bedroom,  den  you  wring  out 
hot  cloths  an'  fotch  'em  as  fas'  as  you 
can.  The  kettle 's  bilin'  a'ready.  Easy 
now,  Cy.  Pore  little  lady;  she  's  one  of 
the  quality — no  mistakin'  that." 

Very  gently  and  carefully  the  good 
souls  lifted  the  unconscious  girl  from 
the  couch  and  carried  her  into  the  room 
beyond,  which  was  little  more  than  a 
closet,  but  where  Aunt  Polly  had  be 
stowed  an  old-fashioned  single  bedstead 
which  she  regarded  with  much  vener 
ation,  and  never  permitted  Cy  to  use. 
The  neighbors  had  often  "  wondered  " 
why  Aunt  Polly  indulged  in  the  luxury 
of  a  spare  room,  but  as  any  inquiry  as 
9 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


to  it  or  its  contents  was  always  met  with 
a  certain  air  of  dignified  frigidity,  which 
Aunt  Polly  could  assume  when  she  de 
sired,  their  curiosity  had  never  been 
satisfied,  and  was  only  commented  upon 
when  Aunt  Polly  was  beyond  hearing 
distance. 

The  storm  raged  on  with  unusual  vio 
lence;  the  wind  howled  and  shrieked 
around  the  lonely  little  cabin  for  hours, 
tearing  down  saplings  and  one  great 
tree  which  stood  behind  it.  Inside,  the 
comely  slave-woman  fought  her  battle 
with  Death,  using  every  means  in  her 
power  to  alleviate  pain  and  save  life. 
And  when,  far  on  toward  the  dawn  of 
another  day,  the  wind  stilled  and  a  pale 
moon  forced  its  feeble  rays  through  the 
trees,  a  mournful  little  wail  penetrated 
the  cabin,  telling  that  a  soul  was  added 
to  the  world,  as  Aunt  Polly  laid  care 
fully  in  Uncle  Cy's  arms  a  newborn 
child. 

10 


Chapter  II 

Marah 

"  IT  's  mighty  mysterious,"  mused  Aunt 
Polly  over  her  washtub,  as  she  stood 
outside  the  cabin  door.  "  Three  weeks 
ago  this  day  the  accident  happened,  and 
we  ain't  no  wiser.  'Pears  like  Missy 's 
'fraid  to  trust  me,  pore  chile;  I  p'intedly 
led  'round  the  conversation,  an'  she 
shies  like  a  sheared  horse  every  time. 
Dare 's  that  baby,  now  —  Comin',"  she 
called  out,  wringing  her  hands  free 
from  soap,  and  starting  for  the  cabin 
door.  "Don'  take  her,  Missy;  I '11  feed 
her  in  a  minute." 

Apparently  Aunt  Polly's  admonition 
was  unheeded,  for  the  baby  was  shout 
ing  lustily  in  its  cradle  as  she  entered, 
and  the  mother  was  sitting  close  by  the 
window  in  an  old  armchair,  her  great 
ii 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


dark  eyes  fixed  on  the  changing  clouds 
drifting  over  the  mountain  peak,  her 
hands  clasped  tightly  in  her  lap.  She 
did  not  even  turn  her  head  or  take  the 
trouble  to  reply.  Aunt  Polly  took  the 
warm  milk  off  the  stove,  settled  the  cry 
ing  baby  in  her  soft,  comfortable  lap, 
and  fed  it  deftly  with  a  pewter  spoon 
from  the  bowl  which  she  stood  on  a 
chair  beside  her.  The  baby  gurgled 
softly  between  spoonfuls  ;  lacking  a 
bottle,  Aunt  Polly  had  already  taught 
it  how  to  take  its  food,  and  the  tiny 
creature  cuddled  its  fists  under  its  chin 
and  presently  slipped  offinto  quiet  slum 
ber,  Aunt  Polly  crooning  a  hymn  softly 
as  she  watched  its  eyelids  close.  Then 
she  rose,  laid  the  child  in  the  old  cradle, 
and  walked  over  where  the  mother  sat, 
with  eyes  still  looking  vaguely  up  at 
the  skies. 

"  Missy,"  she  said  respectfully,  "why 
won'  yo'  trust  me?   Chile,  I  knows  yo' 
12 


Marah 

has  had  trouble;  it's  borne  in  upon  my 
min'  yo'se  been  hardly  used.  What  can 
Cy  an'  me  do  for  yo'  ?  Don'  yo'  know 
I 'd  like  to  help  yo'?" 

The  girl's  eyes  were  turned  slowly 
upon  the  kindly  brown  face. 

"  No  one  can  help  me,"  she  said. 
There  was  not  a  trace  of  feeling  in  her 
low,  trained  voice;  she  answered,  that 
was  all. 

Aunt  Polly  looked  at  the  beautiful, 
tragic  face  for  a  moment,  then  she 
pulled  up  the  one  other  chair  the  room 
possessed,  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  Missy,  I  don'  know  how  yo'  come 
hyar,  an'  I  don'  ask.  But  the  touch  of 
them  baby  ringers  has  opened  my  heart, 
an'  I  'm  goin'  to  tell  yo'  part  of  my  story, 
ef  yo'  '11  listen." 

No  response;  the  silent  figure  sat  as 
before  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  mountain 
top.    Aunt    Polly   sighed;    then  went 
quietly  on  with  her  story. 
13 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


"  I  was  raised  a  good  way  from  hyar ; 
't  ain't  worth  while  to  make  Missy  listen 
to  all  that.  But  when  I  was  young  I 
was  pretty,  an'  I  was  peart  an'  full  of 
my  jokes,  an'  on  the  plantation  I  sutainly 
was  petted  an'  spoiled.  My  Marster 
was  mighty  proud  of  me,  an'  I  was 
brought  up  in  the  house,  like  my  mo 
ther  was  before  me.  There  was  a  rea 
son,  Missy,  for  that;  I  Ve  no  call  to  be 
ashamed  of  it.  That  cradle,  there,  come 
from  a  house  whose  name  is  mighty 
well  known  in  ole  Virginny. 

"  I  never  quite  knew  how  it  all  began, 
but  when  Marster  married  a  fine  madam 
from  New  Orleans,  troubles  seemed 
hoverin'  'roun'  from  the  time  she  set 
foot  on  the  plantation.  I  had  lots  of 
beaux,  but  I  'lowed  I  was  mo'  fond  of 
Marster  Nelson's  Jim  than  the  young 
fellers  on  our  place,  an'  finally  Mar 
ster  said  we  should  have  a  weddin' 
an'  a  dance  for  all  of  us  to  celebrate  it. 
H 


Marah 

Madam  for  the  fust  time  took  some  no 
tice  of  me,  an'  gave  me  a  nice  gown  to 
wear,  an'  Marster  fetched  me  a  veil  an' 
flowers,  an'  I  sutainly  was  proud  an' 
happy  when  Jim  an'  I  stood  up  on  the 
lawn  an'  was  married  by  Brother  Jen 
kins,  the  Methodist  parson  from  the 
Four  Corners.  But,  somehow,  it  seemed 
that  Madam  had  supposed  I  was  goin' 
to  live  over  on  Marster  Nelson's  plan 
tation  after  we  was  married,  but  my 
Marster  put  his  foot  down,  an'  said  he  'd 
no  intention  of  havin'  Polly  go  'way; 
Jim  could  come  over  an'  see  me,  an' 
we  could  have  one  of  the  cabins  in  the 
quarters,  but  he'd  never  let  Polly  go, 
an'  there  was  no  use  argufyin'  'bout  it. 
"After  a  year,  Missy,  my  little  girl 
baby  was  born,  an'  I  was  jus'  as  happy 
as  the  day  was  long.  She  was  so  peart, 
an'  not  so  brown,  even,  as  me;  'most 
the  color  of  yo'  baby,  over  there  in  my 
cradle.  An'  when  she  was  nine  months 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


ole  the  storm  broke  over  my  haid, — 
like  the  storm  the  other  night,  Missy, 
—  an'  it  felled  me  to  the  ground." 

The  cabin  was  very  quiet;  only  the 
sound  of  Aunt  Polly's  sobs,  as  she  burst 
into  tears.  The  girl  turned  from  the 
window;  there  was  something  of  hu 
man  interest  in  her  eyes  at  last,  as  she 
fixed  them  upon  Aunt  Polly. 

"That  chile  was  Jim's  an' mine,  Missy, 
but  no  earthly  power  could  convince 
the  Madam  of  it.  She  hated  that  pore 
little  baby  all  the  more  because  she  had 
none  of  her  own,  an'  she  made  Marster's 
life  a  hell  for  months.  Finally  he  came 
down  to  my  cabin  an'  tole  me  all;  an' 
he  said  that  Madam  insisted  that  the 
chile  should  be  taken  'way  from  me  an' 
sold.  Sold,  Missy!  my  own  little  baby 
girl,  —  an'  then  he  wept  an'  begged  me 
to  forgive  him.  I  fainted  dead  away; 
an'  when  I  came  to  I  was  in  a  ragin' 
fever,  an'  for  weeks  after  pore  Jim 
16 


Marah 

nursed  me  day  an'  night,  'most  crazy 
with  grief,  for  while  I  laid  there  hoverin' 
between  life  an'  death,  they  sold  my 
baby,  an'  from  that  day  to  this  I  have 
never  seen  her,  never  held  her  in  the 
arms  that  are  longin'  for  her." 

"  And  you  —  cared  f  " 

Aunt  Polly  raised  her  head.  The  slow 
bitter  words  fell  so  softly  on  her  ears 
that  she  doubted  she  had  heard  aright. 

"  Chile,"  she  cried  fiercely,  as  their 
meaning  dawned  upon  her,  "  are  yo'  hu 
man  ?  The  beasts  of  the  field  love  their 
young;  don'  yo'  love  yours?  " 

"No.  I  hate  it."  The  slumberous 
eyes  woke  at  last;  such  misery,  rage? 
and  despair  dwelt  in  them  that  Aunt 
Polly  fairly  shuddered.  Of  what  did 
those  awful  eyes  remind  her? 

"Missy,  Missy,  go  down  on  yo'  knees 
an'  ask  the  good  Lawd  to  forgive  yo' 
befo'  worse  happen  to  yo'." 

"  If  there  was  a  God  such  as  you  be- 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


lieve  in  I  should  not  be  here,"  said  the 
girl  coldly.  "  Well,  what  became  of  your 
child?" 

Aunt  Polly's  lips  quivered;  her  ten 
der  heart  yearned  over  this  poor  young 
thing,  half  mad  with  the  unutterable  pain 
of  her  despair. 

"  She  was  sold  'way  down  South, 
Missy.  Trouble  came  hard  on  me  jus' 
then.  Jim  never  was  strong  again  after 
nursing  me  through  the  fever;  he  caught 
cold,  an'  went  into  a  gallopin'  consump 
tion,  an'  died  six  months  later.  Then 
Marster's  heart  began  to  feel  for  me,  an' 
he  came  to  my  cabin  late  one  night 
an'  gave  me  my  freedom  papers,  an'  tole 
me  I  had  better  slip  away  an'  never  let 
nobody  know  I  had  'em  unless  some 
one  tried  to  arrest  me.  An'  I  went,  an' 
by  an'  by,  Cy  an'  I  foun'  each  other  an' 
we  was  married,  an'  after  while  Cy  went 
back  to  the  ole  plantation,  an'  Marster 
let  him  fetch  the  things  what  belonged 
18 


Marah 

to  me  from  my  little  cabin,  an'  at  last 
we  came  up  this  yere  mountain,  an'  hyar 
we  expect  to  live  till  we  die." 

Aunt  Polly  paused  to  wipe  away  her 
tears.  The  girl  laid  her  hand  on  her 
arm. 

"  Would  you  like  to  keep  that  baby  ?  " 
she  said,  turning  her  eyes  reluctantly 
upon  the  cradle. 

"  What  yo'  mean,  Missy?  Nurse  her 
for  yo'?  How  long?" 

"  For  me  ?  Yes,"  with  a  scornful 
smile  that  sat  ill  upon  the  young  face. 
"  I  cannot  say  how  long,  but  I  will 
pay  you  well." 

The  baby  stirred  in  its  cradle;  Uncle 
Cy's  voice  was  heard  from  the  clearing 
singing,  "  How  firm  a  foun-da-tion  ye 
saints  of  the  L-ord,"  as  he  came  toward 
the  cabin.  The  girl  rose  hastily  from 
her  seat,  and,  going  inside  the  little  room, 
closed  the  door. 

The  moon  came  up  late  that  night 

'9 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


over  Silver  Mountain,  bathing  the  trees 
with  its  radiance,  and  making  the  rude 
cabin  look  picturesque  and  beautiful. 
Aunt  Polly  had  crept  out  of  bed  to  feed 
the  baby,  and  sat  dozing  beside  the 
cradle  where  she  had  laid  the  child,  when 
she  was  startled  into  wakefulness  by  a 
soft  footfall  on  the  floor  behind  her. 

"  Do  not  wake  Uncle  Cy,"  whispered 
her  strange  guest.  "  Come  outside  the 
cabin  and  hear  what  I  have  to  say  to 
you." 

Aunt  Polly  crept  quietly  behind,  and 
the  girl  opened  the  door,  going  a  few 
steps  beyond,  under  the  oak-tree  in  the 
clearing.  She  had  tied  a  dark  silk  hand 
kerchief  over  her  hair;  her  long  black 
dress  looked  too  heavy  for  the  slender, 
delicate  frame,  and  her  sombre  eyes 
were  full  of  the  pathos  which  her  words 
and  tone  belied. 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  you,"  she  said; 
"you  saved  my  life,  and  although  I 
20 


Marah 

had  far  rather  died,  I  am  grateful  for 
your  care.  Try  to  forget  me;  you  will 
never  know  who  I  am;  you  can  never 
trace  me.  A  hard,  strange  fate  has  left 
me  at  your  door;  I  am  going  out  into 
the  night;  in  the  night  I  will  remain." 

"  And  the  baby  "  —  cried  Aunt  Polly. 
"  Missy,  yo'se  more  than  welcome  to 
stop;  wait  till  yo'se  stronger  "  — 

"I  am  quite  well,  thank  you,"  the 
girl  replied  coldly,  repelling  the  sym 
pathy  so  kindly  offered;  "keep  the 
child  —  and  —  and  —  I  suppose  you 
must  call  it  something  "  —  Her  voice 
broke  suddenly  with  an  accent  of  de 
spair.  "  Call  it  Marah — that  is  a  fitting 
name  for  it." 

To  Aunt  Polly's  ear  the  name  came 
as  a  familiar  sound. 

"  Mary !  why,  that  was  my  baby's 
name ! " 

The  stranger  heard,  but  did  not  cor 
rect  the  blunder. 

21 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"Better  so,"  she  said  under  her 
breath;  then  aloud,  "You  are  a  good, 
kind  soul;  I  told  you  I  would  give  you 
money;  here  it  is.  In  that  purse  is  two 
hundred  dollars  "  — 

"Oh,  Missy,  I  don'  want  all  that 
money;  'pears  like  yo'  don'  trust  Aunt 
Polly." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  you."  Her 
tone  was  more  gentle,  and  Aunt  Polly 
seized  the  opportunity. 

"  Chile,"  she  said  solemnly,  all  the 
poetry  and  deep  feeling  of  her  race 
coming  to  her  lips,  "  does  yo'  know 
what  yo'se  doin'?  Ef  yo'  desert  yo' 
own  little  baby  the  Lawd  will  sutainly 
punish  yo'  where  it  hurts  most.  In  the 
long  years  to  come  them  baby  fingers 
will  draw  an'  draw,  an'  pull  yo'  heart 
strings  till  perhaps  they  '11  break  with 
woe."  As  she  spoke  she  laid  a  firm 
but  gentle  hand  on  the  girl's  arm,  but 
the  mere  touch  seemed  to  goad  her 

22 


Marah 

into  sudden  fury.  She  wrenched  her 
self  away  with  such  violence  that  Aunt 
Polly  staggered  back  against  the  oak- 
tree  to  keep  from  falling. 

"  Woman,  who  are  you  who  dare  to 
use  such  words  to  me!  I  do  what  I 
please,  and  neither  God  nor  devil  shall 
stop  me;"  and  before  the  listener  could 
recover  herself  to  reply,  the  girl  had  van 
ished  down  the  mountain  side. 

With  a  gasp  of  horror  Aunt  Polly 
gazed  after  the  flying  figure.  She  knew, 
now,  where  she  had  seen  those  eyes 
before. 


AFTER  TWENTY  YEARS 
Chapter  I 

At  Conrad's  Ferry 

IT  was  night  on  the  Potomac  River; 
not  the  clear  starlit  night  of  a  more 
northern  latitude,  but  with  a  slight  mist 
in  the  air,  and  the  soft  soughing  of  a 
southerly  wind  which  perhaps  indicated 
rain.  On  the  southern  bank  just  beyond 
the  bluff  were  a  score  of  straggling 
houses,  chiefly  wooden  shanties,  with 
two  or  three  negro  cabins  nearer  the 
water,  and  at  the  edge,  where  the  bank 
shelved  down  to  the  shore,  was  the 
ferryman's  hut,  and  anchored  just  below 
it  was  his  bateau,  a  rough,  flat-bottomed 
boat,  so-called  from  its  resemblance  to 
those  of  the  Canadian  frontiersmen,  and 
25 


A  Javelin  of  Fate  * 


used  to  ferry  horses  as  well  as  foot  pas 
sengers. 

The  ferryman  stood  in  the  door  of 
his  hut  looking  out  on  the  river.  A  shot 
in  the  distance  had  startled  him,  and  he 
was  trying  to  locate  it  as  he  peered  into 
the  night. 

"Dar's  trubble,  suah  as  yo'  born," 
he  muttered,  half  aloud.  "  'Pears  like 
somebody's  comin'  bofe  ways.  I  su- 
tainly  heered  a  pistol,  an'  dar  's  a  boat 
'tween  hyar  an'  de  Point.  Reckon  I  'd 
better  light  the  lantern  so  dey  '11  know 
whar  de  landin'  is." 

"  Let  that  lantern  alone,"  said  a  low, 
determined  voice,  as  a  man  rose  sud 
denly  from  the  ground  behind  him. 
"  None  of  your  confounded  signals,  or 
I  '11  bring  the  Union  pickets  down  at 
once."  The  remark,  being  emphasized 
by  a  muzzle  of  a  revolver  displayed  per 
ilously  near  the  negro's  head,  was  in 
stantly  obeyed,  and  the  ferryman  replied 
26 


At  Conrad's  Ferry 


with  alacrity :  "  Law,  Marse,  what  fo' 
yo'  talk  dat  a  way  to  ole  Mose  ?  " 

"  Because  I  know  you,  you  rascal, 
and  have  for  years,"  was  the  reply,  with 
a  short  laugh,  as  the  stranger  lowered 
his  hand.  "  Here 's  something  to  assist 
your  memory,  which  somehow  seems 
less  active  than  mine." 

The  ferryman's  hand  closed  eagerly 
over  the  money  thrust  into  it,  and  he 
bent  forward  to  gaze  at  the  face  so  near 
his  own. 

"  Marse  Peyton,  fo'  suah !  How  you 
get  hyar,  sah  ?  I  heard  yo'  was  shut  up 
in  Richmond." 

"  So  I  was,  Mose,  and  in  several  other 
tight  places." 

"  Dey  'd  hev  to  be  mighty  tight  to  keep 
yo'  in,"  chuckled  the  negro.  "  'Member 
how  yo'  an'  Miss  Champe  clumb  into 
de  ole  tulip-tree  from  de  room  whar 
Madam  locked  yo'  up  when  yo'  was 
'bout  ten  year  ole  ?  And  yo'  come  down 
27 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


to  Cynthy's  cabin  whar  I  found  yo'  both 
when  de  whole  fambly  was  runnin',  an' 
shoutin',  an'  huntin'  fo'  yo'.  I  sutainly  is 
glad  to  see  yo'.  Do  yo'  want  me  ter 
ferry  yo'  across  ?  " 

"Hush!"  said  the  other  softly. 
"There  are  two  boats,  Mose,  or  there 
will  be  very  soon.  One  is  coming  down 
from  Point  of  Rocks,  the  other  is  hug 
ging  this  shore.  Listen! " 

The  faint  sound  of  a  cautiously  dip 
ping  oar  directly  under  the  bluff  reached 
the  keen  ears  in  the  doorway,  and  the 
two  men  went  hastily  down  the  narrow 
path  at  the  foot  of  which  lay  the  bateau. 
A  small  skiff  glided  alongside  as  a  hail 
came  from  the  centre  of  the  river,  - 
"Ferry,  ahoy!" 

"Light  your  lantern,  Mose,"  said 
Peyton  Randolph  hurriedly,  as  he 
stepped  on  board  the  bateau  and  bent 
forward  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  the 
occupants  of  the  skiff.  One,  an  elderly 
28 


At  Conrad's  Ferry 


man,  was  rowing;  the  other,  a  slender, 
boyish  figure  with  a  short  military  cape 
drawn  closely  around  him. 

"  Ferry,  ahoy!  "  came  the  call  again, 
this  time  sharply  and  sternly.  Mose 
swung  out  his  lantern. 

"  Bar's de  patrol,  Marse  Peyton,  com 
ing  back  from  Point  of  Rocks.  Dunno 
who  dese  folks  is  —  p'rhaps  yo'  do, 
sah." 

"  Have  you  the  paper,  Rod  ? "  whis 
pered  Peyton  to  the  boy,  who  jumped 
lightly  aboard  the  bateau.  "  It 's  devilish 
unlucky  you  are  an  hour  late." 

"  Could  n't  help  it,"  muttered  the  lad; 
"  the  information  only  reached  us  late 
this  afternoon.  Take  care  of  these  ci 
garettes;  they  are  rather  scarce  down 
below." 

"Slip  back  into  the  skiff,  Rod,  and 

lie  still  under  the  shadow  of  the  bluff 

until  the  patrol  boat  lands  —  no,  wait 

where  you  are! "  came  the  hasty  coun- 

29 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


termand.  The  other  boat  was  now 
alongside,  and  Peyton  went  quietly  for 
ward  to  meet  the  party  as  they  stepped 
off. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd,"  chuckled  Mose  to 
himself  as  he  saw  the  encounter  was 
inevitable,  "  Marse  Peyton  jes'  de  same 
debbil  he  uster  be,  'fraid  o'  nothinV 

"  Who  are  you,  sir?  "  said  the  officer 
as  he  discovered  the  figure  moving 
towards  him  by  the  light  of  Mose's 
lantern.  "And  where  do  you  come 
from?" 

"  Peyton  Randolph  of  Baltimore,  very 
much  at  your  service,  sir,"  returned 
the  Southerner  courteously.  "  I  have 
been  spending  a  few  hours  with  my 
cousin,  Captain  Furness,  by  his  invita 
tion,  and  have  my  pass  if  you  desire  to 
see  it." 

"Furness,  of  the  First  Maryland  Re 
giment,"  said  the  Union  officer,  raising 
his  cap  with  equal  politeness.  "  My 
3° 


At  Conrad's  Ferry 


name  is  Phillipse,  captain  in  the  Third 
Regiment  of  Cavalry,  regulars." 

"  Here  is  my  pass,"  said  Peyton,  hand 
ing  him  the  paper,  and  uttering  a  private 
thanksgiving  that,  so  far,  all  was  well. 
"  I  was  just  about  crossing  the  river 
when  your  hail  came  "  — 

"  Sthop  that,  ye  young  divil,  —  what  '11 
ye  be  afther  "  —  A  sound  of  scuffle  be 
hind  them,  and  Peyton  followed  Captain 
Phillipse  as  he  darted  back  on  the  ba 
teau,  where  a  big  blue-coated  sergeant 
was  holding  a  slight  form  by  the  shoul 
der,  as  the  boy  struggled  to  escape  from 
his  burly  hands. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  O'Brien  ?  "  asked 
the  captain  sharply. 

"  The  b'y,  sor,  was  slippin'  down  the 
side  ave  the  bateau  when  I  see  some 
thing  glitterin'  on  the  deck,  and  as  I 
was  steppin'  to  pick  it  up  the  youngster 
hit  out  wid  his  bit  of  a  fist  in  me  face, 
and  grabbed  the  thing  before  me  eyes." 
31 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"And  what  business  had  you  with 
my  property  ?  "  asked  the  boy  angrily. 
"  I  had  dropped  my  cigarette  case.  Re 
turn  it  to  me  instantly." 

Peyton  turned  sick  and  cold.  By 
what  unlucky  chance  had  he  lost  the 
package  just  intrusted  to  him.  His  hand 
went  swiftly  to  his  side  pocket,  — it  was 
empty ! 

"  Hand  the  cigarette  case  to  me," 
ordered  Phillipse.  "  Release  the  young 
ster,  O'Brien.  And  who  are  you,  sir?" 

"  My  name  is  Rodney  Mason."  The 
boy  shook  himself  free  as  O'Brien 
stepped  back,  and  advanced  toward  his 
questioner. 

"  Where  are  you  from,  and  what  are 
you  doing  on  the  river  ?  " 

"  I  am  from  Rockville,  Maryland.  I 
came  out  to  fish  this  afternoon  on  the 
river,  as  I  frequently  do.  There  is  a 
small  string  of  fish  in  the  skiff,  if  you 
care  to  look  for  them." 
32 


At  Conrad's  Ferry 


"  And  how  came  you  to  be  on  this 
side  of  the  river?  This  is  hardly  an 
hour  for  fishing." 

"Of  course  not,"  with  a  laugh.  "But 
the  mist  came  up  quickly,  and  caught 
us.  I  am  only  lying  here  until  it  lifts, — 
you  see  it's  clearer  now;  I  can  see  a 
few  stars." 

The  boy's  tone  was  so  entirely  frank 
and  easy  that  Phillipse's  dawning  sus 
picion  vanished.  The  little  party  had 
drawn  nearer  the  lantern  as  they  talked, 
and  were  now  directly  beneath  it,  and 
as  Peyton's  eyes  fell  upon  the  lad's 
face  (from  which  his  cap  was  pushed 
back)  he  turned  pale  with  sudden 
alarm. 

"Good  God!  It's  not  Rod!"  was 
the  thought  that  almost  escaped  him, 
and  he  bit  his  lip  to  suppress  an  excla 
mation. 

"  So  this  pretty  trifle  is  yours,"  con 
tinued  Captain  Phillipse,  turning  the 
33 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


case  over  in  his  hand.  "  Is  this  tiny 
cipher  a  death's  head  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  boy  with  a  short 
laugh. 

"  Rather  an  odd  conceit,  though  a 
trifle  gruesome.  I  '11  open  it  with  your 
permission." 

The  boy  watched  him  as  his  ringers 
sought  the  spring;  then  a  rougish  smile 
crossed  his  face  as  the  box  flew  open 
and  revealed  four  very  innocent  look 
ing  cigarettes. 

"  Mose,  hold  that  lantern  closer," 
said  Phillipse,  inspecting  them  care 
fully  as  they  lay  in  his  palm.  "Will 
you  smoke?"  he  asked  suddenly,  ex 
tending  his  hand.  Without  an  instant's 
hesitation  the  boy  took  one. 

"  Will  you  supply  the  match  ?  "  asked 
he  coolly.  Captain  Phillipse  caught  the 
boy's  slender  hand  in  his  as  he  spoke, 
and  took  the  cigarette  from  him. 

"  Select  another,"  he  said  with  a 
34 


At  Conrad 's  Ferry 


searching  glance  which  made  Peyton 
shiver;  "I  wish  to  examine  this."  And 
he  deftly  unwound  the  paper,  holding 
it  up  to  the  light  as  he  did  so. 

"  Such  a  pity  to  waste  the  tobacco," 
murmured  the  boy  softly,  with  a  mali 
cious  twinkle  of  his  hazel  eyes  which 
did  not  escape  his  questioner.  Jack 
Phillipse  was  conscious  of  a  sudden 
subtle  irritation.  He  longed  to  shake 
that  boy  with  all  his  might.  But  he 
smiled  calmly  instead,  thereby  produ 
cing  secret  fury  in  the  breast  of  his 
captive. 

"There  are  three  left;  have  patience 
for  a  moment."  In  exasperating  silence 
the  Union  officer  deliberately  unrolled 
each  one,  and  finally,  after  a  thorough 
inspection,  placed  all  the  papers  safely 
in  his  pocket,  from  whence  he  drew 
his  cigar  case. 

"  Let  me  make  good  the  loss  of  the 
tobacco,  and  return  your  property, 
35 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


—  the  case.    Is  that  your  boat  along 
side  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  boy,  picking  up  his 
cape  from  the  deck  where  it  had  fallen 
during  his  scuffle  with  O'Brien.  "  I 
don't  smoke  cigars,  but  let  me  make 
you  a  present  of  my  fish  and  we  will 
call  it  square." 

"  No,  thanks,  I  won't  deprive  you  of 
them."  The  Union  officer  bit  his  mus 
tache  to  conceal  a  smile.  Jack  Phillipse's 
sense  of  humor  had  saved  many  a  situ 
ation,  and  there  really  seemed  no  reason 
for  detaining  this  very  handsome,  teas 
ing  specimen  of  boyhood.  Though 
why  the  little  rascal  should  look  as 
pleased  as  if  he  had  outwitted  him  Jack 
could  not  divine. 

"You  may  go,  youngster,"  he  said 
kindly;  "but  take  my  advice  and  don't 
try  fishing  in  these  waters  again,  or  you 
may  find  it  dangerous  to  your  personal 
liberty." 

36 


At  Conrad' s  Ferry 


"Good-night,  I'll  not  forget,"  an 
swered  the  mocking  voice  as  the  boy 
stepped  into  the  skiff,  and  the  little  boat 
swept  out  from  the  shore  and  vanished. 

Phillipse  watched  the  boat  out  of 
sight,  and  then  turned  back  where  Pey 
ton  stood  waiting. 

"  Do  you  return  by  the  ferry,  Mr. 
Randolph  ?  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  thanks.  Tell  Furness  you 
saw  me  safely  off.  Good-night." 

The  rope  creaked  as  old  Mose  swung 
the  bateau  round,  moving  slowly  from 
the  bank;  and  standing  forward,  gaz 
ing  into  the  night,  Peyton  Randolph 
heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  said  to 
himself,  — 

"  By  Jove,  that  was  a  close  shave !  I 
wonder  what  dare-devil  scrape  Champe 
will  contrive  to  fall  into  next." 


Chapter  II 

Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

Two  men  walked  briskly  down  Frank 
lin  Street  and  paused  for  a  moment 
at  the  door  of  the  Maryland  Club.  One 
of  these,  tall  and  slender,  and  with  a 
somewhat  military  bearing,  slipped  on 
a  bit  of  ice  which  had  wedged  itself  be 
tween  the  bricks  of  the  rather  irregular 
pavement,  and,  but  for  a  timely  hand 
extended  by  his  companion,  would  have 
fallen. 

"  Take  care,  Fitz,  it  Js  bad  luck  to  re 
turn  to  your  native  land  on  your  knees," 
said  the  older  man  laughing,  as  he 
helped  him  to  rise. 

"  The  soil  of  *  My  Maryland '  is  wel 
come  to  my  homage;  I  assure  you  I 
felt  like  hugging  the  paving  stones,  and 
the  swish  of  the  surface  drainage  of  old 
38 


Mrs.  Vansit  tart's  Ball 

Baltimore  was  music  to  my  ears  when 
I  rattled  down  from  the  train  last  night." 

"  You  Ve  done  yeoman  service  for 
the  Cause  across  the  water,  my  lad,  and 
there  are  a  few  men  inside  the  door 
who'd  like  to  tell  you  so.  Your  uncle 
can  afford  to  wait  a  while;  come  in 
now,  and  know  the  joy  of  a  rousing 
welcome." 

"  I  can't  refuse  —  especially  with  that 
crowd  in  the  window,"  answered  Fitz- 
hugh  Tilghman,  springing  up  the  steps, 
while  Denbigh  followed  more  slowly, 
and,  entering  the  big,  old-fashioned  cor 
ner  room  of  that  most  exclusive  of  clubs, 
encountered  a  hubbub  of  exclamations. 

"  Fitz  Tilghman,  safe  and  sound !  " 

"  Hallo,  old  man,  —  where  's  the 
meerschaum  pipe  you  wagered  me  ?  " 

"  Fitz  himself,  —  same  as  ever,  only 
bigger  and  a  trifle  browner  "  — 

"  What  a  din,"  said  Denbigh.  "  You  '11 
addle  the  lad's  head  among  you.  He 's 
39 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


not  the  only  one  who 's  turned  trumps. 
Fisher  Lattimer  came  with  him." 

"  Where  is  he  now,  Denbigh  ?  "  asked 
an  elderly  man,  as  the  youngsters 
crowded  around  Fitz.  "This  town 
is  n't  a  very  safe  place  at  present. 
Those  cattle  at  McHenry  keep  plenty 
of  spies,  and  you  never  know  when 
you  hit  a  secret  service  man." 

"  It  will  take  rather  a  clever  fellow 
to  trace  some  of  the  counterplots,"  said 
Denbigh,  dryly.  "  Our  women  are  too 
infernally  sharp,  as  a  rule,  to  be  de 
tected.  Queer  old  world  this,  anyhow. 
Let 's  try  a  game  of  poker." 

In  the  bay  window  Fitzhugh  was  de 
manding  news  with  an  insatiable  appe 
tite.  Well  born,  well  bred,  he  was  a 
fine  type  of  the  dashing  Southerner  of 
his  day,  and,  added  to  much  personal 
good  looks,  he  possessed  a  charm  of 
manner  that  made  him  not  only  well 
beloved  of  women,  but  of  men  also. 
40 


Mrs.  Vansittart1  s  Ball 

Brave  almost  to  rashness,  he  had  only 
been  restrained  from  joining  the  Con 
federate  army  because  he  was  assured 
that  he  could  be  of  more  use  to  the  Cause 
by  executing  secret  missions  abroad. 
From  one  of  these  he  had  but  just  re 
turned,  and  after  an  absence  of  a  year 
was  heartily  glad  to  find  himself  once 
more  at  home  in  that  hot-bed  of  seces 
sion,  time-honored  Baltimore,  where 
more  plots  and  counterplots  grew  and 
flourished  during  the  Civil  War  than 
in  any  city  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line. 

"  You  're  just  in  time  for  the  opening 
of  the  gay  season,  Fitz,"  said  Innes  Pe- 
gram. 

"Oh,  yes,  — the  Vansittart  ball," 
chorused  the  rest  of  the  crowd  in  the 
window. 

"  Vansittart?  "  said  Fitz;  "  don't  know 
the  name  here." 

"  Vansittart  ?  Biggest  banking  house 
41 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


in  Antwerp  and  Amsterdam,"  said  Pe- 
gram. 

"That's  where  I  do  know  them," 
said  Fitz,  with  a  laugh.  "  Square  with 
you  fellows;  I've  a  letter  somewhere 
introducing  me  to  the  Madam  from  the 
junior  member  of  the  house,  Van  Der 
Boch." 

"  Have  you,  indeed,"  said  Pegram, 
a  trifle  eagerly.  "  Then  perhaps  you  '11 
be  good  enough  to  explain  to  us  what 
brings  them  to  Baltimore." 

"  Don't  give  me  credit  for  too  much 
knowledge.  Some  transactions  with 
Van  Der  Boch  took  me  to  Amsterdam 
just  before  sailing  for  home,  and  he  gave 
me  the  letter  I  spoke  of,  saying  that  the 
widow  of  Vansittart,  the  head  of  the 
firm,  had  recently  gone  to  America  to 
take  up  her  residence  in  Baltimore.  I 
know  the  Vansittart  house  and  gardens, 
which  cover  a  square,  in  Amsterdam, 
and  upon  my  expressing  surprise  that  the 
42 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

lady  should  leave  so  fine  a  residence,  was 
told  that  she  is  an  American  by  birth, 
and  wished  to  bring  her  young  daughter 
out  among  her  own  people.  What  sort 
are  they,  Pegram  ?  Has  society  opened 
its  arms  and  formally  taken  them  to  its 
exclusive  heart?  " 

"  My  mother  is  about  to  accomplish 
that  feat.  Mrs.  Vansittart's  mother  was 
a  Spanish  Creole  from  NewOrleans,and 
far  away  in  the  dark  ages  the  families 
knew  each  other,  so  the  Mater  made 
out  the  lists  for  her  ball,  and  to-night 
Miss  Cecile  Vansittart  makes  her  bow 
to  all  of  us,  —  you,  I  hope,  included." 

"  Have  n't  presented  my  letter, — how 
the  mischief  can  I  have  the  audacity  to 
intrude  ?  " 

"  I  '11  take  you  under  my  wing,"  said 
Pegram  genially.  "  Reckon  you  '11  pass 
muster,  Fitz.  Come  home  and  dine 
with  me  first." 

"If  I  do  Uncle  Sid  will  scratch  me 
43 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 

out  of  his  good  books.  Thanks,  Pe- 
gram,  I  '11  meet  you  at  any  hour  this 
evening  that  suits  you,  and  like  no 
fun  better  than  a  ball.  Where  's  Den 
bigh?" 

"In  the  card-room,"  said  Pegram; 
and  with  a  good-by  nod  to  the  crowd 
Fitz  made  his  way  out  of  the  club  and 
started  up  Franklin  Street. 

Some  two  months  before,  the  exclu 
sive  and  dignified  residents  of  Mt.  Ver- 
non  Square  had  been  roused  to  quite  a 
flutter  of  excitement  by  the  reopening 
of  a  large  and  handsome  house  which 
occupied  one  corner  of  the  square.  It 
belonged  to  the  heirs  of  an  estate,  and 
had  stood  empty  for  some  years  because 
none  of  them  felt  quite  equal  to  the  ex 
pense  of  living  in  it,  and  naturally  much 
interest  centred  in  the  new  occupants. 
These  proved  to  be  a  widow  and  her 
young  daughter,  who  brought  with  them 
a  retinue  of  servants,  fine  horses,  beau- 
44 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

tiful  old  furniture,  and  pictures,  from, 
it  was  whispered,  a  very  fine  residence 
abroad.  After  due  deliberation  —  for 
she  made  no  move  hastily — Mrs.  Van- 
sittart  called  upon  Mrs.  Pegram,  and  it 
was  speedily  noised  abroad  that  the 
widow  of  the  great  Amsterdam  banker 
had  chosen  to  pitch  her  tents  in  Balti 
more,  and  Baltimore  —  the  social  part 
of  it  —  came  with  all  Southern  warmth 
and  courtesy  to  make  her  welcome. 

Mrs.  Vansittart  stood  in  front  of  her 
mirror,  and  gazed  long  and  critically 
upon  the  picture  it  reflected.  She  was 
too  well  aware  of  her  great  beauty  for 
vanity;  her  chief  care,  at  the  moment, 
being  that  her  toilet  should  be  beyond 
criticism.  She  might  have  posed  as  a 
Court  Beauty  by  Velasquez,  so  Spanish 
her  type,  so  royal  the  jewels  that  flashed 
on  her  neck  and  in  her  hair.  Her  hus 
band,  who  was  many  years  her  senior, 
45 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


had  spent  almost  fabulous  sums  to  fill 
her  caskets,  deeming  himself  fully  re 
warded  by  one  of  her  rare,  fascinating 
smiles.  Somewhat  above  the  ordinary 
stature  of  women,  she  carried  herself 
with  much  grace  and  dignity,  and  the 
masterful  dark  eyes  denoted  her  indom 
itable  will  and  courage.  Her  face  was 
one  of  great  power,  whether  for  good  or 
evil  depended  largely  upon  her  mood, 
and  that,  too,  had  its  element  of  uncer 
tainty.  Her  poise,  mentally,  might  be 
above  or  below  that  of  her  surround 
ings,  but  the  bystander  would  never  be 
the  wiser.  And  it  was  this  atmosphere 
of  mystery  —  of  possibilities  —  which 
perhaps  formed  her  greatest,  certainly 
her  most  dangerous  weapon.  At  her 
pleasure,  no  one  could  exceed  her  power 
of  fascination,  and  when  Evelyn  Van- 
sittart  resolved  upon  conquest  it  was 
usually  but  an  affair  of  time;  she  never 
failed  to  carry  her  point  with  utter  dis- 
46 


Mrs.  Vansittarf  s  Ball 

regard  of  any  obstacle  that  lay  in  the 
path  of  her  desires. 

Her  eyes  glanced  approvingly  from 
the  jewels  in  her  hair  to  the  train  of  her 
velvet  gown.  A  tap  came  on  the  door 
of  her  room  and  a  playful  voice  said,  — 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  Oh,  mamma,  I  Ve 
caught  you  for  once  posing  before  a 
mirror." 

"  Saucy  child,  —  of  course  I  am  '  pos 
ing,'  if  you  choose  to  call  it  so.  Remem 
ber  that  I  have  to  conquer  Baltimore  — 
and  these  terribly  stately  neighbors," 
answered  Mrs.  Vansittart,  with  the  soft 
tone  in  her  voice  that  only  her  daughter 
had  power  to  call  forth.  "Come  in  and 
be  inspected,  Cecile;  I  think  Virfollet 
has  done  her  best  with  your  gown." 

Out  of  a  diaphanous  mass  of  tulle 
somewhat  modified  from  the  exagger 
ated  balloon-like  style  of  the  sixties, 
rose  the  girlish  shoulders  and  flaxen 
head  of  a  fairy-like  creature.  So  fragile, 
47 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


so  ethereal,  that  a  touch  of  pathos  was 
added  to  the  admiration  which  her  lovely 
features  and  wistful  violet  eyes  called 
forth.  But,  as  if  in  direct  contradic 
tion  to  her  physique,  the  joyousness  of 
her  disposition,  her  playful  manner,  and 
the  exquisite  kindliness  that  seemed  to 
prompt  her  every  thought  won  love  and 
admiration  for  Cecile  Vansittart  from 
those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact. 
And  to-night  she  was  that  charmingly 
unspoiled  product  of  nature,  —  a  very 
young  girl  on  the  eve  of  her  first  ball. 

"  Mamma,  you  are  superb !  "  cried 
Cecile.  "  This  new,  strange  Baltimore 
will  be  taken  by  storm  when  it  sees 
my  beautiful  mother.  I  like  your  gown 
even  better  than  the  one  I  remember 
you  wore  at  the  Court  ball  before  papa 
died." 

"  You  must  have  seen  it  in  your 
dreams,"  said  Mrs.  Vansittart  lightly, 
gathering  up  her  fan  and  gloves  from 
48 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

the  toilet  table.  "  You  were  not  more 
than  six  years  old,  and  what  did  you 
know  of  gowns  ?  " 

"But  I  do  remember,"  insisted  Cecile, 
following  her  mother  from  the  room; 
"and  I  heard  papa  tell  Vrouw  Van 
Der  Boch  the  sensation  you  made  in  the 
dance,  and  how  the  Russian  Minister  " — 

"  Hush,  child,  —  my  triumphs  are 
past;  yours  to  come.  Do  you  hear  the 
music  ? "  The  soft  strains  of  a  waltz 
came  floating  up  the  staircase,  and  Mrs. 
Vansittart  followed  Cecile's  eager  feet 
down  to  the  drawing-room,  where  Mrs. 
Pegram  and  a  few  other  guests  had 
already  arrived.  The  house  filled  rap 
idly;  society  kept  earlier  hours  in  those 
days,  and  by  twelve  o'clock  the  ball 
was  at  its  height,  with  all  the  easy  grace 
and  enjoyment  of  a  Southern  city  height 
ened  by  the  pleasure  of  new  surround 
ings.  Baltimore  social  life  at  that  period 
was  a  sea  which  required  a  skillful  pilot, 
49 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


for,  outwardly  gay,  the  waters  were  full 
of  shoals  and  rocks  for  the  unwary. 
Partisan  feeling  ran  high,  and  one  could 
never  be  certain  when  one  would  en 
counter  the  traitor  or  the  loyalist.  In 
deed,  it  depended  entirely  upon  one's 
point  of  view  where  to  fit  the  appel 
lation.  The  high-bred  society  woman 
who  was  sending  "aid  and  comfort"  to 
the  enemy  (perhaps  carrying  informa 
tion  in  her  innocent-looking  work-bag) 
would  be  found  dining  with  another, 
equally  well  known  as  a  Union  sympa 
thizer,  —  each,  perhaps,  feeling  that  she 
would  dearly  love  to  do  a  bit  of  private 
detective  work  on  behalf  of  whichever 
side  she  favored.  This  partisanship 
added  greatly  to  the  unrest  and  excite 
ment  of  the  day,  and  as  there  were  on 
active  service  in  both  armies,  Federal 
and  Confederate,  many  of  the  proudest 
names  in  Maryland,  the  air  was  full  of 
distrust  and  vague  apprehension,  no  one 
50 


Mrs.  Vansittarf  s  Ball 

knowing  when  or  where  a  bolt  from 
the  blue  might  fall. 

The  dancing  had  begun  when  Fitz- 
hugh  Tilghman  ran  hastily  up  the  broad 
steps  of  the  Vansittart  house,  and  turned 
to  touch  the  bell.  A  tall  figure  followed 
him,  and  as  the  door  opened  a  voice 
behind  him  said,  "  Is  this  Mrs.  Van- 
sittart's  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Fitz  courteously, 
stepping  a  little  aside  to  permit  the 
stranger  to  enter.  As  the  light  struck 
his  eyes  he  saw  the  glitter  of  a  gilded 
shoulder-strap,  and  with  a  surprised 
stare  recognized  the  blue  uniform. 

"  Have  n't  you  made  a  mistake  ?  "  he 
asked,  somewhat  curtly.  "This  is  a 
social  affair." 

"  I  am  well  aware  of  it,"  returned  the 
other  calmly.  "  I  am  here,  as  I  presume 
you  are,  by  Mrs.  Vansittart's  invita 
tion." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  answered  Fitz, 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  gentlemanly  instinct  overcoming  his 
surprise  and  irritation.  "I  had  forgotten 
that  this  house  might  be  considered  for 
eign  ground." 

"  And  as  such  safe  for  belligerents," 
said  Jack  Phillipse,  handing  his  cap  and 
muffler  to  the  waiting  servant. 

"That  you,  Fitz?"  called  Innes  Pe- 
gram  from  the  drawing-room  door. 
"  Why  so  late  ?  Hurry,  old  man,  I  want 
to  introduce  you  to  a  partner  for  the 
cotillion." 

"Who  the  devil's  that?"  asked  Fitz, 
aside,  as  the  officer  passed  inside  the 
door.  "What's  a  Yankee  doing  in  this 
assemblage  ?  " 

"  Shut  up,"  said  Pegram  good-na 
turedly.  "He  is  one  of  the  Federals 
stationed  at  Fort  McHenry,  and  hap 
pens  to  be  some  kin  to  Mrs.  Vansittart. 
Probably  our  hostess  knows  nothing 
of  the  politics  of  our  social  caldron, 
though  I  am  pretty  certain  that  my 
52 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

mother  would  not  have  allowed  his 
name  to  pass  on  her  list.  Come  on,  Fitz; 
Peyton  Randolph  is  to  lead  the  German 
with  Miss  Vansittart;  I  want  to  present 
you  before  it  begins." 

Cecile  had  left  her  post  at  her  mo 
ther's  side,  and  was  dancing  merrily. 
Mrs.  Vansittart,  with  Colonel  Denbigh 
in  attendance,  received  Pegram  and 
Fitz  most  graciously. 

"  You  hardly  need  the  letter  you 
speak  of,  Mr.  Tilghman,  for  Van  Der 
Boch  wrote  me  in  regard  to  it,  and 
moreover  I  heard  of  you  often  through 
the  Tilghmans  in  London,  who  are  old 
and  valued  friends.  Ask  Mr.  Pegram 
to  present  you  to  Cecile —  Ah,  Jack, 
I  began  to  fear  you  were  not  coming  to 
my  house-warming." 

Jack  Phillipse,  bowing  over  the  hand 

she  extended,  saw  Fitz  turn  away,  and 

Denbigh  draw  himself  up  with  a  stiff 

salute.    Neither  action  was  lost  upon 

53 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Evelyn  Vansittart,  who,  smiling  se 
renely,  faced  the  situation. 

"  Colonel  Denbigh,  you  will  let  me 
present  to  you  my  cousin,  Captain  Phil- 
lipse.  My  house  is  neutral  ground, 
where  all  my  friends  and  acquaintances 
are  welcome." 

("And  by  Gad,  sir,"  quoth  the  courtly 
old  colonel,  when  relating  the  incident 
next  day  at  the  club,  "  when  she  looked 
me  in  the  eye  with  that  fascinating  smile, 
and  that  air  of  noblesse  oblige,  damned 
if  I  did  n't  have  to  submit  to  her  sover 
eign  will  and  pleasure,  and  talk  with 
the  Yankee  captain  for  an  eternity  of 
five  minutes.") 

"  I  fear  you  are  a  trifle  late  to  find 
a  partner  for  the  cotillion,"  continued 
Mrs.  Vansittart,  after  Denbigh  had  ex 
cused  himself.  "  But  there  are  several 
girls  here  who,  I  am  told,  are  Union 
sympathizers,  and  who  will  be  glad  to 
meet  you.  Have  I  asked  too  much  of 
54 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

your  good-nature  in  begging  you  to 
come  to-night,  Jack?  " 

"Certainly  not.  You  don't  know  how 
impervious  I  am  growing  to  the  pointed 
avoidance  of  the  Southern  women. 
They  look  so  maddeningly  pretty,  these 
Baltimore  girls,  when  they  trip  across 
the  street  for  fear  of  meeting  a  blue  uni 
form.  I  met  one  the  other  day  who  had 
such  a  twinkle  of  mischief  lurking  in 
her  hazel  eyes  that  I  wanted  to  doff  my 
cap,  and  would  have  done  so  except 
that  it  would  have  been  misunderstood 
and  promptly  resented.  It  will  take  all 
your  Old  World  finesse  and  diplomacy 
to  steer  among  the  social  rocks  of  Bal 
timore." 

"  But  I  shall  succeed,"  was  the  calm 
reply,  as  she  found  the  pretty  girl  she 
sought,  and  left  Jack  snugly  ensconced 
beside  her. 

Among  the  most  fiery  of  Southern 
sympathizers  in  Baltimore  were  the 
55 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Lovells,  three  very  pretty,  dashing  girls, 
who  were  usually  just  getting  into  or 
emerging  from  some  treasonable  scrape 
which  kept  their  friends  in  constant 
terror  of  a  clash  with  the  authorities.  As 
yet,  most  of  their  escapades  had  such  an 
element  of  dare-devil  humor  that  they 
had  been  allowed  to  go  scot-free,  but 
the  sight  of  a  blue  uniform  was  sure  to 
inspire  the  trio  with  wrath  and  a  desire 
for  vengeance.  The  prettiest  of  the  three 
sisters,  Joan,  a  tiny  creature  (known 
familiarly  as  "  the  pocket  edition  "),  no 
sooner  spied  Jack  Phillipse  on  the  floor 
of  Mrs.  Vansittart's  ballroom  than  she 
set  her  pearly  teeth  as  she  waltzed  past 
him  with  Innes  Pegram,  and  bethought 
what  she  could  do  to  annoy  this  obnox 
ious  Yankee. 

"  What  can  our  hostess  be  thinking 

of  ?  "   she  murmured   in  Pegram's  ear. 

"  The   idea  of  having   that   wretch  — 

here!    Why   don't   you    take    him   by 

56 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

the  collar,  and  tell  him  he  's  not 
wanted." 

"  Can't,"  said  Pegram  briefly.  "  Civ 
ilization  demands  courtesy  in  other 
people's  houses." 

He  knew  Joan  well,  and  was  always 
greatly  amused  with  her  violent  hatreds, 
even  while  inwardly  sympathizing  with 
them. 

"  Courtesy  be  —  sent  to  Hong  Kong! 
I  '11  make  you  a  bet  that  I  '11  manage  to 
rid  ourselves  of  that  specimen  of  Uncle 
Sam  within  half  an  hour." 

"Joan,"  —  warningly,  as  he  looked 
down  at  the  wickedly  dancing  brown 
eyes,  —  "  for  heaven's  sake  don't  dis 
grace  us  socially  in  the  eyes  of  a  new 
comer." 

Joan  laughed,  but  would  not  promise, 
and  Pegram  said  no  more,  knowing  that 
argument  would  only  tend  to  produce 
the  effect  he  wished  to  avoid,  but  trusted 
that  whatever  plot  she  was  meditating 
57 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


would  prove   more   mischievous    than 
serious. 

"The  German,"  as  the  dance  now 
called  the  cotillion  was  known  in  the 
sixties,  was  a  polite  game  of  romps, 
where  all  manner  of  figures  were  intro 
duced,  according  to  the  fancy  or  whim 
of  the  leaders,  some  of  which  would 
now  be  called  absolutely  childish,  but 
in  those  days  only  provoked  fun  and 
frolic.  Joan  Lovell,  watching  her  op 
portunity  cleverly,  contrived  to  get  near 
the  leader  of  the  band,  who,  sheltered 
behind  a  mass  of  tall  plants,  was  turn 
ing  over  his  music  during  a  pause  in 
the  dancing.  Hablemann,  a  big  German 
who  conducted  the  dance  music  for  all 
fashionable  Baltimore,  had,  luckily  for 
Joan's  scheme,  been  obliged  to  leave  a 
subordinate  to  fill  his  place  for  the  latter 
part  of  the  evening.  In  her  most  coax 
ing  voice  Joan  begged  a  favor  of  him. 
When  the  next  figure  came  did  he  think 
58 


Mrs.  Vansittarfs  Ball 

he  could  introduce  the  music  of  a  song 
—  when  she  waved  her  handkerchief — 
a  song  the  dancers  would  all  join  in 
and  sing? 

"  Vy,  yes,  of  course,"  said  the  good- 
natured  musician,  blushing  deeply  at 
the  honor  of  being  addressed;  "any- 
ting  dot  de  young  lady  vish."  Where 
upon  Joan  whispered  a  name,  and  then 
fled  precipitously,  nearly  falling  into 
Peyton  Randolph's  arms  as  she  did  so. 

"Just  looking  for  you,"  said  he,  as  he 
whirled  her  off.  "  This  is  quite  a  new 
figure,  and  I  '11  explain  it."  The  floor 
was  vacant,  but  in  the  centre  stood  a 
chair,  and  after  a  turn  or  two  he  stopped 
beside  it. 

"  Now,  Miss  Joan,  you  are  to  hold 
this  small  mirror;  and  Miss  Vansittart 
will  bring  up,  behind  you,  two  men. 
You  look  in  the  mirror,  and  inspect  first 
one,  then  the  other;  pass  your  handker 
chief  over  the  mirror  which  reflects  the 
59 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


face  of  the  unlucky  fellow  you  don't 
desire  to  select  as  partner,  then  hand 
the  mirror  to  the  one  you  wish  to  dance 
with." 

"  But  what  if  I  don't  wish  to  dance 
with  either  ?  "  cried  Joan.  "  Can  I  go  on 
until  the  right  one  comes?" 

"  Of  course,  but  don't  be  too  cruel." 

Joan  settled  herself  and  her  flounces 
comfortably  in  the  chair,  and  with  dan 
cing,  mischievous  eyes  felt  that  Fate  was 
playing  into  her  hands  better  than  she 
could  have  expected.  All  round  the 
room  every  one  was  watching  the  new 
figure.  Cecile  brought  up  two  men, 
only  to  receive  a  coquettish  negative 
flirt  of  the  handkerchief  over  the  mirror. 
Then,  two  more,  equally  undesired; 
but  as  Cecile  turned  back,  laughing,  to 
seek  others  for  the  capricious  lady's 
choice,  Fitz  stood  in  her  path,  and  she 
took  his  hand. 

"  Will  you  try,  Mr.  Tilghman  ?  And 
60 


Mrs.  Vansittarf  s  Ball 

—  I  must  have  another.    Captain  Phil- 
lipse,  please  come  with  me." 

Jack,  who  happened  to  be  standing 
with  his  back  to  her,  turned  instantly, 
regardless  of  the  glare  with  which  Fitz 
honored  him,  and  in  a  second  the  trio 
stood  behind  Joan's  chair.  She  held  up 
the  mirror  deliberately,  stared  at  Jack's 
handsome  reflection  in  it  for  a  brief 
second,  then  wiping  it  out  vigorously, 
she  waved  the  scrap  of  lace  in  the  air, 
and  darted  to  her  feet  as  the  well-known 
strain  burst  forth  from  the  orchestra,  a 
song  instantly  taken  up  by  every  South 
ern  sympathizer's  voice  in  the  room :  — 

"  Hurrah,  hurrah,  for  the  Bonnie  Blue  Flag, 
That  bears  the  single  star !  " 

Fitz  put  his  arm  quickly  around  Joan's 
waist,  and  she  thrust  the  mirror  into 
his  hand,  whispering,  "Didn't  I  do  it 
well  ?  "  in  his  ear  as  they  danced  down 
the  floor. 

The  Union  officer  drew  himself  up 
61 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


as  if  on  parade,  and  stood  motionless  in 
the  centre  of  the  room,  though  his  flash 
ing  eyes  and  heightened  color  told  that 
the  insult  was  keenly  felt.  Randolph 
made  a  hasty  movement  in  his  direction, 
but  before  he  could  reach  him,  Cecile, 
all  unconscious  of  the  cause,  but  feeling 
the  antagonism  in  the  air,  had  laid  her 
hand  on  Jack's  arm. 

"  This  makes  you  my  partner,"  she 
said  sweetly.  "  I  did  not  have  time  to 
explain  the  figure.  Shall  we  take  a 
turn  ?  " 

From  her  post  in  the  doorway,  where, 
with  a  mixture  of  wrath  and  amusement 
she  had  been  witness  to  this  extraordi 
nary  scene,  Mrs.  Vansittart  said  to  Den 
bigh,  at  her  elbow, — 

"Brava!  the  child  has  saved  the 
situation.  I  wonder  who  played  the 
trick?" 


Chapter    III 

The  Man  who  Vanished 

CECILE  VANSITTART  slept  late  the 
morning  after  her  ball,  and  her  maid, 
Stephanie,  had  twice  tiptoed  across  the 
dressing-room  before  a  very  sleepy 
voice  said  softly,  — 

"  Is  that  you,  Ste'phanie  ?  I  think  I  '11 
have  my  chocolate  in  bed  unless  mamma 
is  waiting  for  me." 

"Madame  ordered  the  carriage  and 
went  out  half  an  hour  ago,  Mam'selle; 
Andrd  has  the  chocolate  at  the  door.  I 
trust  I  did  not  spoil  Mam'selle's  beauty 
sleep?" 

Cecile  drew  herself  up  daintily  from 

her  pillows  as  the  maid  brought  in  the 

breakfast   tray,   and    proceeded    to  eat 

her  rolls  with  unabated  appetite,  chat- 

63 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


ting  merrily  with  Stephanie  at  the  same 
time. 

"  You  should  have  called  me  earlier, 
Stephanie ;  I  have  n't  an  idea  of  the  hour, 
but  I  promised  to  ride  out  to  Dalkeith 
House  this  morning  with  Joan  Lovell 
and  Mr.  Tilghman,  and  I  am  afraid  I 
have  missed  my  appointment." 

"A  message  came  for  Mam'selle," 
said  the  maid.  "  I  think  Andrd  put  the 
card  on  the  tray." 

"  Oh,  here  it  is,"  disappointedly. 
"  They  've  gone  on  without  me.  Never 
mind,"  more  cheerfully.  "  Turn  on  my 
bath,  Stephanie,  and  send  a  message  to 
the  stable  that  I  wish  my  horse  at  the 
door  in  half  an  hour.  And  I  '11  have  the 
new  groom  instead  of  Martin ;  he  knows 
the  country  here,  and  Martin  is  apt  to 
lose  his  way." 

"  The  man  of  color  ?  "  -  hesitated 
Stephanie,  uncertain  whether  to  say 
negro,  and  with  the  politeness  of  her 
64 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

race  avoiding  the  more  common  epithet 
of  "  darky." 

"  Yes.  Scip,  I  think  they  call  him," 
said  Cecile,  laughing.  "  And  fetch  my 
green  habit." 

A  proud  and  self-satisfied  African  was 
Scip  as  he  stood  at  the  door  of  the  Van- 
sittart  mansion  half  an  hour  later.  Those 
were  the  days  of  the  "  intelligent  contra 
band,"  and  the  wave  of  circumstance  had 
brought  him  from  "  down  Souf  "  into  his 
present  position  in  Baltimore.  Crossing 
the  lines,  Scip  had  first  found  employ 
ment  with  the  quartermaster's  men; 
then,  one  day,  a  volunteer  captain  had 
corralled  him  as  a  servant,  and,  in  due 
course  of  time,  brought  him  to  Wash 
ington  when  ordered  there  on  staff  duty. 
Jack  Phillipse  had  fallen  heir  to  Scip 
when  his  first  "  marster "  went  to  the 
front  again,  and  he,  in  turn,  finding  that 
Mrs.  Vansittart  needed  a  groom  to 
complete  her  household  corps  of  ser- 
65 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


vants,  had  secured  the  situation  for 
him  with  the  understanding  that  he 
was,  in  a  way,  responsible  for  his  good 
behavior. 

"  Laws,  Marse  Captain,"  quoth  Scip, 
with  an  indescribable  air  of  drollery  and 
confidence  peculiar  to  his  kind,  "  I  'se 
'tended  hosses  since  I  waz  knee-high 
to  a  grasshopper,  an'  I  done  tole  yo' 
p'intedly  dat  I  waz  body  servant  to 
young  Miss-  No,  Marse  Captain,  I 
airft  done  tole  yo'  -what  young  Miss, 
an'  I  don'  mean  ter;  dat  belongs  to  de 
life  down  Souf.  But  I  '11  serve  faithful 
wharever  yo'  put  me,  sah." 

Scip's  chief  pride  was  Cecile's  pretty 
blooded  mare,  but  next  to  that  the  Van- 
sittart  livery  appealed  to  him,  for  its 
claret  color  and  white  facings  quite  ful 
filled  his  idea  of  elegance,  and  this  was 
his  first  order  to  accompany  his  young 
mistress.  He  had  groomed  the  mare's 
satin  coat  till  it  fairly  shone,  and  he 
66  " 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

stood  holding  both  horses  by  the  bridles 
as  Cecile  came  smilingly  down  the  steps 
of  the  house. 

"Good-morning,  Scip;  do  you  think 
you  can  put  me  up  ?  " 

Scip's  chuckle  deepened  into  a  dis 
play  of  all  his  ivories;  Cecile  put  her 
foot  in  his  hand  and  sprang  lightly  into 
the  saddle.  The  mare  danced  a  little, 
and  Scip  waited  for  orders  before  mount 
ing. 

"Which  way,  little  Missy?  "  he  asked 
respectfully. 

"I  shall  have  to  ask  you  that,  Scip. 
I  have  n't  learned  Baltimore  streets 
very  well  as  yet.  I  wish  to  go  to  Dal- 
keith  House, —  Mrs.  Pegram's,"  directed 
Cecile. 

"  Dat  's  out  Relay  way,  Missy,  —  oh, 
yes,  I  know  whar  't  is,  right  well." 

It  took  some  little  time  to  get  through 
the  streets,  Cecile  found,  for  the  pave 
ments  were  anything  but  regular,  and 
67 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


wet  moreover  and  muddy.  It  was  a  re 
lief  when,  following  Scip's  directions, 
they  finally  struck  a  dirt  road  and  found 
themselves  outside  the  city  limits.  Dal- 
keith,  a  fine  old  Maryland  house,  was 
on  the  post  road  of  olden  times;  and  the 
approach  was  somewhat  winding  after 
reaching  the  gates  which  stood  hospita 
bly  open.  Cecile  rather  expected  to  see 
Joan  Lovell  and  her  cavalier  in  the 
wide  portico,  but  apparently  no  one 
was  in  view.  Dismounting,  she  threw 
her  reins  to  Scip  and  went  quickly  up 
the  steps  as  he  led  the  horses  away. 
The  house,  large  and  wide,  was  a  dou 
ble  one,  with  parlors  on  either  side  of  a 
hall  which  ran  through  it  from  front  to 
back,  the  door  standing,  Southern  fash 
ion,  unlatched.  Cecile  pushed  it  open, 
and  seeing  no  one  within,  turned  to  the 
right  and  entered  the  large  square  par 
lor.  Back  of  that,  with  folding  doors 
between,  was  the  library,  which  at  first 
68 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

she  thought  was  empty  also.  But  as  her 
eyes  accustomed  themselves  to  the  light, 
she  saw,  seated  by  a  window  at  the  ex 
treme  end  of  the  room,  a  man,  who,  with 
his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  appeared  to 
be  plunged  in  deep  thought.  She  could 
see  him  perfectly;  he  was  strikingly 
handsome,  with  a  long,  sweeping  mus 
tache  worn  cavalry  fashion,  which  ac 
corded  well  with  his  clear-cut  features. 
Cecile  hesitated;  she  did  not  like  to 
advance,  and  was  equally  unwilling 
to  retreat.  Where  was  Mrs.  Pegram, 
and  why  was  the  house  so  seemingly 
deserted?  In  her  annoyance  at  the 
awkwardness  of  her  position  the  riding 
crop  which  she  held  escaped  from  her 
fingers,  and  in  falling  hit  the  edge  of 
a  table,  making  a  slight  noise.  Then  a 
strange  thing  happened.  From  a  figure 
of  repose  the  stranger  became  instantly 
the  incarnation  of  activity,  for  without 
pausing  to  look  in  her  direction,  he 
69 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


placed  one  hand  on  the  open  window-sill 
beside  him,  and  bounding  lightly  over 
it  with  the  skill  of  a  practiced  athlete, 
vanished! 

Cecile  gave  a  little  gasp,  half  fright, 
half  amazement;  then  she  turned  and 
fled  into  the  hall. 

"Why,  my  dear  child,"  said  Mrs. 
Pegram,  coming  down  the  staircase  as 
she  spoke,  "  I  did  not  know  you  were 
here.  Have  you  been  waiting  long?" 

"  Only  a  moment,"  said  Cecile,  too 
bewildered  to  conceal   her  embarrass 
ment.    "  I  went  into  the  parlor,  and  — 
oh,  Mrs.  Pegram  —  I  am  afraid  I  dis 
turbed  your  guest." 

A  singular  expression  flashed  across 
her  hostess'  fine  face,  then  she  said  gen 
tly,  with  her  usual  composure :  - 

"  My  guest?  I  have  none  at  present. 
Joan  and  Fitz  Tilghman  left  some  time 
ago.  They  thought  you  were  not  com- 


ing." 


70 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

"But  the  gentleman,  Mrs.  Pegram, 
—  certainly  he  was  sitting  in  the  win 
dow"— 

"  Which  window  ? "  Mrs.  Pegram 
cut  her  short  as  she  led  the  way  into 
the  parlor.  "  There  is  no  one  here, 
Cecile." 

"  He  was  there,  I  am  sure,  and  he 
sat  in  that  large  chair,"  stammered  Ce 
cile,  unable  to  reconcile  a  burglar  theory 
which  flashed  through  her  brain  with 
the  face  and  beauty  of  the  mysterious 
stranger. 

"  Then  where  is  he  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Pegram  tranquilly.  "  What  became  of 
him?" 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Pegram,  he  jumped  out 
of  the  window." 

Mrs.  Pegram's  gaze  of  mild  incredu 
lity  was  beautiful  to  behold.  She  hesi 
tated  a  second,  then  she  laid  her  hand 
on  Cecile's  arm. 

"  Cecile,"  she  said,  looking  the  girl 
7' 


A  jfavelin  of  Fate 


directly  in  the  eyes,  "  there  was  no  one 
there.  Do  you  understand  me,  my  dear  ? 
Ton  saw  no  one  !  " 

For  the  second  time  in  twenty-four 
hours  Cecile's  fine  breeding  rose  to  the 
emergency.  The  real  truth  never  en 
tered  her  puzzled  little  head,  but  she 
repeated  naively, — 

"  I  saw  no  one."  Then,  with  a  twin 
kle  of  her  blue  eyes  which  proved  her 
possession  of  American  humor,  she 
added,  with  conviction,  "  It  was  a  ghost; 
that  is  why  I  was  frightened." 

Mrs.  Pegram  longed  to  give  way  to 
laughter,  but  the  situation  was  too  se 
rious.  More  than  one  life  might  hang 
in  the  balance  of  fate  were  her  visitor 
discovered,  and  she  dared  give  no  con 
fidences. 

"  As  in  England,  many  old  Maryland 
houses  have  their  family  ghost,  Cecile. 
Some  day,  if  you  would  be  interested 
to  hear  it,  I  may  tell  you  of  ours." 
72 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

"And  a  secret  chamber?"  asked 
Cecile  eagerly.  "  I  saw  one  in  an  old 
mansion  in  Amsterdam  which  was  said 
to  have  been  used  by  the  famous  Beg 
gars  of  the  Sea.  But  yours  would  not 
be  as  old  as  that,  would  it  ?  " 

Again  Mrs.  Pegram  experienced  the 
sensation  of  skating  over  very  thin  ice. 

"What  a  romantic  child  you  are; 
your  Old  World  simplicity  is  a  contrast 
to  our  girls'." 

"  But  your  girls  are  delightful,  dear 
Mrs. Pegram.  Though" — she  hesitated, 
coloring  brightly. 

"  —  Though  they  do  take  liberties," 
finished  her  hostess,  glad  to  change  the 
conversation.  "  I  was  greatly  vexed 
with  Joan  LovelPs  trick  last  night.  It 
was  a  distinct  liberty,  and  as  such  re 
quires  an  apology.  Joan  told  me  that 
she  wrote  a  note  asking  for  forgiveness 
this  morning." 

"Which  is  granted,"  said  Cecile 
73 


A  jfavelin  of  Fate 


readily.  Her  mother  had  given  her  a 
hint  after  the  ball  that  it  was  better  to 
pass  over  the  matter  without  discussion, 
especially  —  here  Mrs.  Vansittart  grew 
emphatic  —  especially  not  with  Mrs.  Pe- 
gram.  And  Cecile  was  doing  her  best 
to  obey  the  suggestion. 

"  Stay  and  have  dinner  with  me," 
urged  Mrs.  Pegram,  after  half  an  hour 
had  been  given  to  chatting  about  the 
ball  and  its  great  social  success.  "  I  am 
old-fashioned  enough  to  cling  to  my 
three-o'clock  hour  for  the  meal,  and  to 
day  Innes  is  coming  out  from  Baltimore 
to  dine  with  me." 

"  I  should  love  to  stop,  but  we  are 
dining  out  to-night,  and  to-morrow  you 
are  coming  to  us.  Will  you  order  the 
horses  for  me;  I  really  must  start  at 
once." 

During  Cecile's  visit,  Scip  had  been 
having  an  experience  of  his  own  which 
caused  him  great  fright  and  much  re- 
74 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

flection.  The  drive,  around  which  he 
led  the  horses,  took  two  turns  before 
arriving  at  the  stable  door,  and  the  sec 
ond  one  brought  the  back  of  the  man 
sion  in  full  view  to  the  passer-by  on  the 
road.  Scip,  sauntering  along,  talking 
half  aloud  to  his  horses  as  he  went,  saw 
a  tall  figure  vault  quickly  out  of  the  li 
brary  window  to  the  ground,  and  then 
dart  behind  a  thick  box  hedge  which 
effectually  concealed  him  from  the 
house,  but  not  from  the  negro's  keen 
eyes,  which  fairly  rolled  in  his  head 
with  excitement  and  surprise. 

"  Fo'  de  good  Lawd's  sake !  "  gasped 
Scip,  promptly  interposing  the  mare's 
body  between  himself  and  the  box 
hedge,  "  Ef  it  ain't  Marse  Gineral ! 
How'd  he  come  hyar;  to  cotch  me,  I 
wonder?  Reckon  not,  Marse  Gineral. 
Yo'  done  get  dis  yere  niggar  no  mo'. 
Spec  I  'd  better  git  inside  dat  stable 
mighty  spry."  Scip  fairly  flew  along 
75 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


between  the  trotting  horses,  and  did 
not  draw  a  free  breath  until  he  found 
himself,  panting  and  almost  gray  with 
fright,  safe  within  the  stable  door. 
Once  there,  however,  his  wits  returned 
to  him,  and  he  proceeded  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  the  Pegram  retainers,  and 
by  cautious  questioning  endeavored  to 
obtain  some  information  regarding  the 
apparition  of  the  fleeing  guest  But  old 
Cicero,  the  gray-haired  coachman  who 
had  "b'longed  to  de  fambly  an'  bin 
raised  dar,"  was  as  astute  in  his  way  as 
Scip,  and,  moreover,  had  not  much  pa 
tience  with  any  "  contraband  "  or  "  Lin- 
cum  sogers,"  so  he  listened  with  old- 
time  politeness  to  all  Scip  had  to  say, 
and  whenever  a  question  was  slipped  in 
replied  to  it  by  asking  another  in  such 
an  artful  and  apparently  innocent  fash 
ion  that  Scip  recognized  the  ruse,  and 
resolved  to  tell  "  Marse  Captain "  the 
whole  story  on  the  first  opportunity. 
76 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

The  last  flying  fold  of  Cecile's  riding 
habit  had  disappeared  through  the  gates 
before  Mrs.  Pegram  felt  secure  enough 
to  return  to  her  library.  Once  there,  she 
walked  to  the  window  and  looked  care 
fully  out;  then,  closing  it,  turned  back 
to  see  the  man  she  was  watching  for 
walk  quickly  forth  from  behind  a  large 
Japanese  screen  which  adorned  one  cor 
ner  of  the  room. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Augusta,"  said  he 
easily,  "  you  do  spring  surprises  on 
one!  If  I  had  known  the  intruder  at 
my  back  was  that  very  pretty  girl  I 
think  I  should  have  stopped  and  taken 
the  chances,  trusting  to  luck  and  your 
infinite  fund  of  resource  rather  than 
give  her  such  a  fright." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  ac 
tually  came  back  and  were  behind  that 
screen  all  the  time  she  was  here  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  I  found  I  was  in  full 
view  of  the  stable  while  behind  the 
77 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


box  hedge,  and  I  stole  in  through  the 
side  door  and  ensconced  myself  com 
fortably  here.  I  knew  you  would  not 
come  further  than  the  parlor,  and  the 
calm  audacity  with  which  you  endeav 
ored  to  convince  your  visitor  that  she 
had  not  seen  my  very  substantial  self 
merits  my  highest  admiration." 

Mrs.  Pegram  joined  in  the  laugh  as 
he  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  What  was  I  to  do  ?  "  she  said  rue 
fully.  "  I  did  n't  dare  tell  her  who  you 
were,  as  I  did  Joan  Lovell.  The  child 
has  only  recently  come  to  the  United 
States,  and  has  very  vague  ideas  as  to 
the  Civil  War.  Whatever  she  thinks,— 
and  when  she  has  time  to  reflect  she 
very  possibly  may  guess  that  you  be 
long  to  the  Confederate  Cause,  —  I  know 
she  will  not  mention  the  incident  be 
cause  of  the  unwritten  law  —  noblesse 
oblige" 

"And  then,"  he  went  on,  "  you  asked 
78 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

her  to  stay  to  dinner,  and  I  had  visions 
of  another  '  ghostly '  exit." 

"  Nonsense ;  my  invitation  was  merely 
facon  deparler.  I  knew  I  was  perfectly 
safe  in  giving  it,  and  it  seemed  inhos 
pitable  not  to  do  so.  Stop  teasing,  arid 
tell  me  your  plans,  and  what  I  can  do 
for  the  Cause." 

His  face  changed  instantly;  the  quick, 
alert  look,  the  stern  lines  of  his  mouth 
told  the  man  of  action  and  set  pur 
pose. 

"You  cannot  do  much  at  present. 
Hampton  is  planning  another  raid;  this 
time  one  even  more  daring  than  his 
last;  and  I  take  command  in  one  direc 
tion,  while  he  leads  in  the  other.  More 
than  this  I  cannot  tell  you,  but  any  news 
which  you  may  obtain  through  social 
sources  —  news  of  movements  that  is 
authentic  —  helps  us;  that  is,  if  any 
thing  can  help  a  losing  Cause!  " 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  say  that!  " 
79 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


she  cried.  "  Fitz  Tilghman  brings  help 
and  money  from  abroad;  there  are  dis 
sensions  even  now  at  the  North  ;  there 
is  an  organized  move  in  Canada"  — 

"  Of  little  avail,"  he  said  sadly. 

"  Do  I  live  to  hear  you  abandon  the 
Cause  ?  "  she  said  in  keen  reproach. 

"  I  ?  Never!  You  mistake  me,  Au 
gusta.  The  last  drop  of  my  blood  be 
longs  to  the  South.  But  we  leaders  see 
the  beginning  of  the  end,  and  seeing  it, 
struggle  on.  I  have  no  right  to  discour 
age  you ;  you  know  I  am  always  rather 
a  pessimist." 

She  looked  at  him  compassionately, 
her  fine  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"  I  never  knew  what  changed  you  so 
utterly  in  those  days  of  long  ago.  I  date 
it  back  to  that  dreadful  trip  to  New 
Orleans  from  which  you  returned  aged 
years." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  in 
silence.  A  dark  flush  mounted  his 
80 


The  Man  who  Vanished 

bronzed  face,  his  eyes  burned  with  an 
emotion  she  could  not  fathom. 

"  I  would  rather  not  lift  the  stone 
from  that  grave,"  he  said  with  concen 
trated  passion.  "  It  holds  all  my  youth, 
my  faith,  —  indeed,  my  every  hope. 
And  it  bears  a  woman's  name." 

"  I  guessed  as  much,"  she  murmured 
softly;  but,  Gaspard"  — 

"  Hush,"  he  said,  springing  from  his 
chair,  "  that  is  Cicero's  whistle." 

They  listened  a  moment;  again,  un 
der  the  window  of  the  room,  sounded 
the  note  of  warning. 

"  I  must  to  cover."  He  moved  swiftly 
toward  the  door  as  he  spoke,  and  she 
followed  him.  "  Next  time  I  '11  come 
by  night,  and  send  you  word  in  advance. 
Tell  Innes  I  meet  two  of  our  men  to 
night  in  Baltimore  at  the  old  place. 
Good-by;  God  bless  you;"  and,  leav 
ing  a  kiss  on  her  upturned  face,  he  was 
gone. 


Chapter   IV 

A  Daughter  of  Eve 

"  I  DECLARE,  Champe,  it  warms  the 
cockles  of  my  heart  to  see  you  devour 
that  batter-bread.  Your  appetite  con 
vinces  me  that  the  stories  of  starvation 
parties  down  in  Richmond  have  solid 
foundation." 

"  Solid  ?  "  quoth  Champe  Randolph, 
taking  another  half  slice.  "  Did  you  say 
solid,  Aunt  Sue?  Solid  in  foundation 
alone,  then.  t  Trifles,  light  as  air,'  —  in 
fact,  almost  air  itself  is  what  we  poor 
souls  have  been  subsisting  upon;  yes, 
and  it's  getting  worse  every  day." 

Miss  Susan  Lindsay  (affectionately 
known  as  "  Aunt  Sue  "  to  all  her  large 
circle  of  friends  and  acquaintances)  set 
down  her  coffee-cup  and  made  on 
slaught  upon  the  fried  chicken  with  a 
82 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 

view  to  replenishing  Champe's  already 
well-filled  breakfast  plate. 

"  I  am  forced  to  remind  you  that  I 
did  n't  leave  there  yesterday,"  remon 
strated  Champe ;  "  and  I  'm  not  qualify 
ing  for  a  Strasburg  goose.  Enough, 
enough,  Aunt  Sue." 

With  this  assurance,  Aunt  Sue  was 
fain  to  be  satisfied,  although  she  cast  a 
lingering  glance  at  the  fat  ham  on  the 
sideboard,  and  even  suggested  some 
spiced  pickle  which  stood  temptingly 
at  hand.  Then  she  settled  herself  com 
fortably  in  her  chair  and  demanded  the 
latest  news  from  the  beleaguered  South 
ern  city. 

"  It  seems  mighty  dangerous  to  have 
you  running  the  blockade,  Champe.  Do 
you  ever  reflect  what  those  low-down 
Yankees  would  do  to  you  if  they  catch 
you  coming  through  the  lines?  I  don't 
see  how  Peyton  ever  consents  to  let 
you  take  such  risks." 
83 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  Can't  help  himself,"  said  Champe 
lightly.  "  The  dear  boy  knows  he  can 
trust  me  to  take  care  of  myself,  though 
I  do  give  him  a  fright  occasionally." 
And  she  laughed  at  the  recollection  of 
the  scene  at  Conrad's  Ferry.  "  I  do  not 
expect  to  try  it  more  than  once  again. 
And,  oh,  Aunt  Sue,  it 's  the  gay,  wild 
drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  that  comes 
straight  down  from  my  cavalier  ances 
tor  who  fought  with  Prince  Rupert  and 
died  for  the  King.  I  just  can't  help 
it" —  And  Champe,  rising,  playfully 
pulled  Aunt  Sue  over  to  her  favorite 
chair  near  the  big  bay-window  and  sat 
down  on  a  low  seat  beside  her. 

They  were  dear  friends,  those  two, 
and  not  only  because  of  the  near  tie  of 
kinship  between  them,  for  when  Mrs. 
Randolph  died  she  made  Miss  Lindsay 
joint  guardian  with  her  brother  to  her 
boy  and  girl.  There  was  money  ga 
lore  for  both  children,  but  Aunt  Sue 
84 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 


took  Champe  to  her  own  home,  where, 
except  for  two  years  passed  in  a  Rich 
mond  boarding-school,  she  had  spent 
most  of  her  life.  When  the  Civil  War 
broke  out  Champe  happened  to  be  vis 
iting  in  Richmond,  where  she  remained 
for  more  than  a  year,  and  where  her 
belleship  made  her,  literally,  the  toast 
of  the  South.  Returning  to  Baltimore, 
her  beauty  and  wit  gave  her  the  pres 
tige  accorded  to  a  favored  few,  and 
therefore  it  was  little  short  of  a  marvel 
how  she  contrived  to  aid  "the  Cause" 
without  detection.  Perhaps  some  of  her 
victims  might  have  told,  but  so  far  their 
silence  had  been  the  pledge  of  their 
loyalty. 

"  Aunt  Sue,"  said  Champe,  after  they 
had  asked  and  answered  questions  for 
half  an  hour,  "  I  had  one  queer  adven 
ture  not  so  long  ago  that  I  must  tell 
you.  Beside,  there  is  a  question  in 
my  mind  whether  "  —  She  hesitated, 
85 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


blushed,  shook  her  head  doubtfully, 
and  went  on :  "I  had  started  from  Cul- 
peper  Court  House  with  Percy  Hu- 
ger  (Cousin  Alice's  youngest  son,  you 
know)  to  go  for  a  short  visit  to  Orlean, 
and  took  advantage  of  the  escort  of 
Carey Estes  (of  Longstreet's  staff  ),  who 
was  carrying  dispatches.  We  had  to 
cross  the  Hazel  River,  and  as  we  were 
looking  for  the  ford,  a  man,  dressed  in 
a  suit  of  butternut  cloth,  dashed  out 
from  the  bushes  on  the  river  bank,  and 
begged  for  a  horse  to  enable  him  to 
cross.  He  had  been  wounded  in  the 
left  arm,  and  somehow  he  appealed  to 
me.  He  wanted  to  join  General  Early's 
command;  and  he  told  a  straight  enough 
story,  but  the  difficulty  was  that  our 
horses,  which  were  none  too  well  fed, 
were  too  spent  to  make  the  ford  and 
return  for  him.  So  Percy  rather  curtly 
refused  him  our  aid.  The  man  looked 
so  disappointed,  so  half-frozen  and  for- 
86 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 

lorn,  that  I  offered  to  mount  him  behind 
me,  as  I  had  a  big  black  horse  which  I 
knew  was  safe  to  carry  double." 

"Good  heavens!"  ejaculated  Aunt 
Sue.  "  Well,  after  all,  you  could  n't 
well  refuse  a  poor  soldier  —  and  a 
wounded  one." 

"Just  what  I  thought,"  said  Champe, 
with  an  odd  little  laugh,  "  especially  as 
I  was  morally  certain  he  never  would 
know  me  again.  Even  you  would  have 
been  puzzled  to  recognize  me,  for  I 
wore  an  officer's  gray  hat,  pulled  down 
low  over  my  brow,  to  keep  off  the  snow 
which  was  falling  in  a  light  flurry,  and 
my  riding  visor  over  my  face  com 
pletely  covered  every  feature  except 
my  mouth  and  eyes.  He  had  great 
difficulty  in  mounting,  but  at  last  with 
the  trooper's  aid  we  got  him  up  and 
started.  Just  fancy  the  scene!  The 
river  was  unusually  swollen  from  re 
cent  storms,  and  partly  filled  with  ice, 
87  ' 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  snow  was  falling,  and  the  cutting 
wind  seemed  to  penetrate  our  very 
bones.  The  men  went  in  advance  of 
me,  and  the  horses  struck  out  gallantly; 
we  were  nearly  across  when  the  soldier 
almost  lost  his  balance,  but  feeling  him 
slip,  I  managed  to  grip  his  arm  and  pull 
him  up  until  Percy's  orderly  came  to 
my  relief.  But  I  can  tell  you,  Aunt 
Sue,  I  was  dreadfully  frightened  for  a 
minute;  I  thought  I'd  see  him  drown 
before  my  eyes." 

"  What  became  of  him  ? "  asked  Miss 
Lindsay  breathlessly. 

"  When  we  got  to  the  top  of  the  bank 
Percy  dismounted  and  pulled  him  off, 
and  as  we  were  about  to  leave  him  I 
pointed  out  a  little  hut,  not  far  away, 
where  I  knew  he  could  find  shelter, 
and  I  think  I  said  he  might  tell  the  in 
mates  that  a  lady  from  Richmond,  a 
friend  of  Colonel  Mosby's,  sent  him 
there  for  a  night's  lodging." 
88 


A  Daughter  of  Rve 

"  That  was  fine,"  said  Aunt  Sue,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  You  saved  a  man's  life." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Champe,  with  rueful 
countenance;  "but  —  I  saved  it — for 
the  wrong  side !  " 

"  Bless  my  soul,  child,  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"Now,  that's  just  the  question,  —  and 
I  've  never  settled  it.  Aunt  Sue,  that 
man  was  a  Yankee." 

"  A  -what?  "  Miss  Lindsay  could  not 
believe  her  ears. 

"  A  Union  soldier,  and  even  worse,  I 
suspect,  —  an  officer." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Champe 
Randolph,  that  you  knew  he  was  an 
enemy  and  you  deliberately  let  him  go 
free,  —  the  viper!  " 

Champe  straightened  herself,  and  the 
color  flew  to  her  face  as  she  said  hotly: 

"Yes,  I  did.  Aunt  Sue,  I  couldn't 
betray  him.  When  the  horse  lost  its 
footing,  and  he  nearly  fell  off,  he  gave  a 
89 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


short  exclamation, —  well,  I  'm  not  sure 
that  it  was  a  pious  one,  — and  his  accent 
was  unmistakably  —  real,  downright 
New  York.  Aunt  Sue,  look  me  in  the 
face  and  tell  me  whether  —  viper  or 
not  —  you  would  have  then  and  there 
denounced  him?" 

"  On  consideration  —  no  !  I  'd  be 
ashamed  of  y ou  if  you  had." 

"  There  !  "  cried  Champe  triumph 
antly,  as  Aunt  Sue  rapped  out  this  un 
expected  reply.  "  My  conscientious 
scruples  vanish." 

"  You  need  n't  crow  over  it,"  said 
Aunt  Sue,  aware  that  she  had  fallen 
into  the  trap  so  mischievously  laid  for 
her.  "  But  why  do  you  imagine  he  was 
a  Yankee  officer?" 

"  First,  because  of  his  voice  and 
manner;  secondly,  I  Ve  run  across  him 
again." 

"Not  here,  in  Baltimore?  Oh,  my 
dearest  child,  do  be  careful.  You  will 
90 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 


certainly  get  caught  in  some  of  your 
mad  scrapes." 

"  No,  not  here."  Champe  did  not  dare 
divulge  where;  Aunt  Sue's  proprieties 
would  never  forgive  the  boy's  disguise 
which,  so  far,  Champe  had  succeeded 
in  keeping  a  profound  secret.  "  I  did 
tease  him  so —  Good  heavens!  what 
has  happened  ?  " 

Both  women  sprang  to  their  feet  as 
something  crashed  against  the  win 
dow-pane  just  behind  Miss  Lindsay's 
chair. 

"  It 's  only  a  snowball,  rather  better 
aimed  than  usual.  I  '11  just  warn  those 
boys  across  the  street,"  said  Aunt  Sue, 
throwing  up  the  window  as  she  spoke. 
Opposite  the  house  were  six  or  seven 
small  boys,  and  one,  a  half-grown  lad, 
evidently  the  culprit,  stood  gazing  in 
their  direction  with  his  hands  behind 
him.  As  Aunt  Sue  raised  the  sash,  he 
let  fly  what  looked  to  be  another  ball, 
91 


A  y  awe/in  of  Fate 

for    it    landed    plump   and    fairly    at 
C  -  :-.  --.  ?  .  '  «  :  -:  :  :. 

"Don't  scold  them,"  whispered 
Champe  in  Miss  Lindsay's  ear  as  she 
pounced  on  the  tiny  packet  and  slipped 
it  behind  a  convenient  sofa  pillow. 
"There's  a  policeman  coming  up  the 
street,  and  I  dom't  want  that  boy  caught. 
It's  Billy.** 

Whoever  the  lad  was,,  or  what  his 
errand,  the  instant  he  beheld  Champe's 
face  at  the  window  he  took  to  his  heels, 
and  with  the  smaller  boys  flying  after 
him  Klrg  the  tail  of  a  kite,  the  ^«tiyq» 
party  disappeared  around  the  nearest 
corner.  The  fat  policeman  crossed  the 
street  and  touched  his  hat  to  Miss 
Lindsay. 

"Sure,  it  's  thim  limbs  ave  b'ys  what's 
always  gettin9  in  mischief,  ma'am.  If 
they  cracked  your  window  it  *s  mesetf 
that  11  lock  'em  up." 

No  Hama|w»  done,  thank  yon;  they 


44 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 


gave  me  rather  a  fright  as  I  was  sitting 
close  bj.  Don't  lock  them  up,  this  time ; 
they  don't  often  get  snow  enough  here 
to  play  balL" 

tt  It 's  throe  for  ye,  ma'am.  Good- 
day,"  and  he  passed  up  the  street. 

Champe,  on  the  sofa  safely  out  of  sight, 
was  unrolling  the  packet.  It  proved  to 
be  a  small  piece  of  paper,  many  times 
folded  around  a  square  bit  of  metal,  the 
sort  of  thing  used  for  weighing  down 
riding  habits  or  jackets.  There  were 
a  few  words  written  on  the  paper. 
Champe  read  them  eagerly:  — 

"Estes  court-martialed  on  account 
of  failure  of  movement  in  November. 
Your  evidence  necessary  for  acquittal. 
Come  at  once  by  upper  Potomac.  Em 
ploy  Dutch  Hans." 

Aunt  Sue,  having  closed  the  window, 
was  startled  by  a  cry  of  anguish  from 
Champe,  who,  deathly  pale,  was  crum 
pling  the  paper  with  nervous  fingers. 
93 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


"  It 's  bad  news,"  she  said  briefly. 
"  I  shall  start  back  to-night  if  I  can  pos 
sibly  manage  it.  Carey  Estes  has  been 
court-martialed." 

"  What  on  earth  have  you  to  do  with 
that?  Oh,  Champe,  do  not,  I  beg  of  you, 
run  into  danger  again." 

"  But  I  must,  Aunt  Sue.  Carey  was 
with  me —  I  have  just  told  you  we 
crossed  the  Hazel  River  together.  The 
movement  for  which  he  carried  orders 
failed,  and  he  is  court-martialed.  It 
must  be  urgent  or  I  would  not  be  sum 
moned.  I  must  go  at  once  and  find 
whether  the  Lovells  have  any  informa 
tion.  Don't  worry,  dear  Aunt  Sue.  If 
Peyton  appears  during  my  absence  ask 
him  to  wait  for  me  here.  I  '11  not  be 
long." 

Jack  Phillipse  had  been  having  a  par 
ticularly  busy  time  that  morning  in  the 
adjutant-general's  office,  and  started  to 
94 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 

make  his  way  back  to  Fort  McHenry 
about  noon.  Walking  down  North 
Charles  Street,  where  he  had  promised 
to  meet  a  brother  officer  before  taking 
the  horse-cars  which  would  carry  him 
near  the  Fort,  he  saw  a  small  crowd 
collected  on  the  corner  of  St.  Paul  Street, 
and  stopped  a  moment,  preferring  not  to 
elbow  his  way  through  it  as  most  of  the 
spectators  were  women.  Jack's  experi 
ence  had  taught  him  that  the  sight  of 
his  blue  uniform  was  a  signal  for  avoid 
ance  on  the  part  of  many  of  the  South 
ern  women,  and  as  he  took  up  a  position 
on  the  curbstone  there  was  a  little  fall 
ing  back  of  several  of  them;  in  fact, 
only  three  apparently  held  their  ground 
in  his  immediate  vicinity,  and  they  were 
so  engrossed  in  what  they  were  looking 
at  that  they  did  not  cast  a  glance  in  his 
direction.  Up  the  street  came  a  squad 
of  men,  and  Jack  saw  that  it  was  a  pro 
vost-marshal's  guard,  surrounding  eight 
95 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


or  ten  prisoners,  some  of  them  in  the 
war-worn  Confederate  gray  uniform. 
As  they  neared  him  sufficiently  for 
the  faces  of  the  prisoners  to  be  seen, 
suddenly,  from  the  crowd,  rang  out 
clearly  a  woman's  voice,  of  startled 
surprise,  — 

"Page  Tucker!" 

Instantly  there  was  a  word  of  sharp 
command,  the  soldiers  halted,  and  the 
sergeant  in  charge  started  to  advance  on 
the  little  crowd.  Jack,  who  was  aware 
that  the  cry  had  come  from  a  girl  who 
stood  beside  him,  heard  a  low  whisper, 
intended  for  his  ear  alone,  — 

"  For  God's  sake,  don't  let  them  ar 
rest  me ! " 

"Then  keep  quiet,"  he  said  sternly, 
without  even  a  glance  in  her  direction. 
The  squad  had  halted  directly  in  front 
of  the  spot  where  Jack  stood.  The  pris 
oners  were  eagerly  surveying  the  faces 
nearest  them,  except  one  man,  —  a  tall, 
96 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 

well-poised  figure,  —  who  stood  twirling 
his  eyeglasses  rather  carelessly  as  he 
fastened  his  coat  collar. 

"  Who  spoke  there  ?  "  demanded  the 
sergeant,  pushing  nearer  the  curbstone. 
No  one.  answered,  and  one  of  the  wo 
men  laughed.  Jack  took  a  step  forward. 

"I  think  the  call  came  from  the 
centre,  Sergeant  Evans,"  he  said.  The 
sergeant  turned  and  saluted. 

"  I  did  n't  see  you,  sir,"  he  said  re 
spectfully.  "  My  orders  are  to  arrest  any 
person  who  endeavors  to  communicate 
with  the  prisoners." 

"  Was  the  name  called  that  of  one  of 
the  prisoners  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.   Shall  I  inquire  ?  " 

Jack  looked  at  the  man  with  the  eye 
glasses,  who  met  his  gaze  with  a  cool 
stare  of  indifference.  He  opened  his 
lips  to  order  the  sergeant  to  pass  on, 
when  a  small  boy  rose  from  the  curb 
where  he  had  been  crouching,  and,  point- 
97 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


ing  a  dirty  finger  at  the  girl  who  had 
spoken,  called  out  with  the  impishness 
of  the  street  gamin,  — 

"That's  her!  I  seen  her  when  she 
hollered."  • 

The  little  crowd  had  melted  swiftly 
away  during  the  colloquy  between  Jack 
and  the  sergeant,  leaving  only  an  elderly 
woman  who  had  mounted  the  steps  of 
a  house  in  front  of  which  they  were 
standing,  a  man  with  a  market  basket 
on  his  arm,  and  the  girl,  whose  eyes 
Jack  now  met  for  the  first  time. 

"You  young  rascal,  you  saw  nothing 
of  the  kind."  Jack  laid  a  strong  hand 
on  the  imp's  shoulder.  "  This  young 
lady  is  here  under  my  escort,  sergeant. 
No  further  investigation  is  necessary. 
Move  on ! " 

The  sergeant  wheeled  and  saluted, 
the  squad  swung  into  line,  and  the  small 
boy,  now  thoroughly  frightened,  twist 
ing  himself  free  from  Jack's  angry  grasp, 
98 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 


scuttled  down  the  street  and  disap 
peared,  leaving  Jack  and  the  girl  facing 
each  other.  There  was  a  second's  pause 
as  the  provost-marshal's  guard  passed 
on  its  way;  then  Jack  said  in  a  careful 
undertone,  — 

"  Will  you  pardon  me  for  claiming 
an  acquaintance?  It  was  the  only  way 
out  of  an  embarrassing  situation." 

"  You  may  escort  me  as  far  as  the 
next  square,"  was  the  unexpected  reply 
as  Champe  Randolph  flashed  an  elo 
quent  glance  upon  him.  "  I  thank  you 
more  than  I  can  say.  An  arrest  at  this 
moment  would  have  been  a  great  mis 
fortune,  and  I  should  not  have  provoked 
it  but  for  my  surprise  at  seeing  an  old 
friend  and  playmate  a  prisoner  when  I 
thought  him  miles  away  in  the  South." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  been  of  ser 
vice,"  Jack  answered,  a  little  bewildered 
with  her  beauty  and  gracious  manner, 
and  at  the  same  time  haunted  with  an 
99 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


idea  that  he  had  seen  her  before.  "  Pray 
think  no  more  about  it.  It  is  a  pleasure 
to  have  saved  you  annoyance." 

"  And  I,"  said  Champe,  with  a  mis 
chievous  smile,  as  she  paused  in  front 
of  the  house  where  she  intended  call 
ing,  "  I  rejoice  in  the  courtesy  accorded 
by  a  Union  officer  —  to  a  rebel."  And 
with  a  gay,  teasing  laugh  she  ran  up 
the  steps  as  Jack  bared  his  head  in 
farewell. 

"  Where  on  earth  are  you  going, 
Phillipse  ?  "  called  a  familiar  voice  be 
hind  him  as  he  continued  down  North 
Charles  Street,  and  Ned  Harris  caught 
up  with  him.  "  I  've  been  chasing  you 
for  two  squares.  Your  orders  have 
come." 

"  What  are  they?  "  demanded  Jack. 

"  Report  to  General  Averill  for  staff 
duty  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley.  You  Ve 
passed  the  corner  where  we  were  to 
meet,  and  my  astonished  eyes  beheld 

IOO 


A  Daughter  of  Eve 


you  with  about  the  last  woman  I  ever 
expected  to  see  escorted  by  a  United 
States  officer." 

"  Indeed !    And  why  so,  may  I  ask  ?  " 
"  Because  she  is  the  greatest  belle 
and  rankest  rebel  of  all  Baltimore, — 
Champe      Randolph,  —  Peyton     Ran 
dolph's  only  sister." 


Chapter  V 

The  Web  of  Circumstance 

EVELYN  VANSITTART  sat  in  her  luxu 
rious  library  alone,  and  before  her,  on 
her  desk,  lay  an  open  letter.  Twice 
had  Andre*,  her  footman,  brought  in  a 
card  upon  a  silver  salver  only  to  have 
his  mistress  dismiss  him  with  a  brief 
"  not  at  home."  It  was  rather  a  dull 
afternoon  following  a  sunny  morning, 
and  Cecile  had  gone  out  on  horseback 
with  Fitz  Tilghman,  who  had  become 
her  devoted  cavalier,  leaving  her  mo 
ther  to  what  Mrs.  Vansittart  called 
"  my  European  affairs."  But  it  was  not 
Amsterdam  nor  her  vast  interest  there 
and  elsewhere  which  had  chained  her 
thoughts.  She  was  indulging  in  a  re 
trospect  which  she  seldom  allowed  her 
self,  —  she  was  alone  with  her  past. 

102 


The  W^eb  of  Circumstance 

Taken  abroad  by  her  mother,  after 
her  father's  death,  at  barely  nineteen 
years  of  age,  she  met,  while  visiting  at 
an  historic  English  home,  Guysbert 
Vansittart,  a  banker  of  Amsterdam. 
More  than  twice  her  age,  a  man  of  great 
fortune,  much  culture,  and  by  no  means 
ill-looking,  he  had  (against  all  his  pre 
conceived  ideas  of  what  he  considered 
admirable  in  a  wife)  fallen  desperately 
in  love  with  the  beautiful  American. 
The  wooing  had  been  short,  and  three 
months  after  their  first  meeting  the 
wedding  had  taken  place  at  St.  George's 
with  a  pomp  and  brilliancy  that  grati 
fied  the  soul  of  Evelyn's  most  ambitious 
mother.  She  in  her  turn  married,  shortly 
after,  an  Englishman  of  family,  thus 
cutting  off  all  connection  with  the  land 
of  their  birth  except  such  ties  as  were 
represented  by  their  lawyer  and  man  of 
affairs,  whose  office  was  merely  to  attend 
to  their  property  in  America. 
103 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Guysbert  Vansittart  came  of  good  old 
Holland  stock,  and  Evelyn  took  and 
held  a  position  of  much  distinction  in 
her  new  home.  But  to  the  day  of  his 
death,  which  occurred  when  Cecile  was 
twelve  years  old,  Vansittart  carried  the 
consciousness  that  he  had  never  pene 
trated  the  depths  of  his  wife's  heart.  He 
adored  her;  she  was  only  kind.  With 
the  patience  and  phlegm  of  his  race,  the 
man  endured  his  lot,  consoled  by  the 
thought  that  if  she  could  not  return 
the  passion  with  which  she  inspired  him 
she  at  least  bestowed  it  upon  no  one. 
And  had  he  been  content  to  die  as  he 
had  lived  in  that  belief,  perhaps  his  pass 
ing  would  have  been  easier;  for  the  fruit 
of  the  Tree  of  Knowledge  is  as  bitter 
to-day  as  it  was  in  the  Garden  of  Eden. 
But  just  before  he  died,  as  Evelyn  stood 
alone  beside  him,  he  opened  his  dimmed 
eyes  and  said  softly,  — 

"Well-beloved,  it  comforts  me  to 
104 


The  W^eb  of  Circumstance 

know  that  thou  hast  never  loved  as  I 
love  thee.  Assure  me  of  that  before  we 
part." 

A  wave  of  temptation  surged  over 
Evelyn.  Why  not  seal  her  long  deceit 
with  one  little  lie?  But  the  inherent 
truth  at  the  base  of  her  warped  nature 
asserted  itself,  and  with  lips  that  grew 
pale  in  the  telling,  she  cried  fiercely,  — 

"  Man,  you  know  not  the  meaning  of 
the  word  love !  I  have  loved  —  and  lost 
—  all!  " 

With  a  choking  sob  Guysbert  Van- 
sittart  turned  on  his  pillow  and  died. 

During  all  the  years  that  followed 
the  tragedy  of  her  youth,  Evelyn  dis 
played  one  singularly  strong  character 
istic,  —  she  never  made  a  confidante. 
Her  agony,  her  despair,  was  locked  in 
her  own  breast;  so  was  her  desire  for 
vengeance.  Her  secret,  known  but  to 
one  other,  had,  through  a  curious  train 
of  circumstances,  been  absolutely  unsus- 
105 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


pected,  and  for  years  she  had  been 
quietly  planning  her  return  to  America. 
And  now,  in  the  letter  that  lay  before 
her,  came  the  announcement  that  the 
weapon  was  being  fitted  to  her  hand, — 
the  only  person  who  could  help  to 
avenge  the  past  was,  in  answer  to  Eve 
lyn's  summons,  hurrying  to  her  side. 

The  fire  burned  low  on  the  hearth, 
the  gray  shades  of  evening  began  to 
gather  in  the  sky,  but  Evelyn  sat  on, 
unheeding,  until  the  rattle  of  horses' 
hoofs  on  the  pavement  caused  her  to 
raise  her  head.  She  rose  quickly,  but 
before  she  had  time  to  touch  the  bell, 
the  library  door  opened,  and  Andre* 
ushered  in  a  tall,  spare,  elderly  woman, 
wearing  a  long  dark  cloak  and  bonnet 
of  ancient  fashion. 

"  Xante  The'rese,  at  last,  at  last,"  said 
Evelyn,  in  a  voice  that,  although  low, 
told  of  repressed  excitement. 

"  Mon  enfant,  mon  co3ur  ! "  cried  the 
106 


The  If^eb  of  Circumstance 

woman,  showering  kisses  on  the  hand 
extended  to  her,  and  continuing  in  rapid 
French  with  the  slight  patois  of  a  New 
Orleans  Creole  of  the  lower  class, 
"After  all  these  years  —  to  see  you 
again ;  oh,  heart  of  my  heart  —  and 
still  so  beautiful  —  so  young!  " 

"  My  looks  belie  my  feelings,"  said 
Evelyn  sadly,  as  she  undid  the  woman's 
cloak  and  led  her  to  an  easy-chair. 
"  You  make  me  feel  a  child  again,  Tante 
Therese.  And  are  you  well,  quite  well  ? 
I  could  wait  no  longer  to  see  you,  or  I 
would  not  have  demanded  your  coming 
in  winter." 

"  But,  what  difference  ?  I  would  have 
gone  even  across  the  ocean  had  you 
called  me." 

Evelyn  drew  her  chair  close  to  the 
other,  and  the  conversation  went  on  in 
low  tones,  but  always  in  French,  as  the 
Creole's  English  was  halting  and  diffi 
cult. 

107 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"Are  you  content  with  me,  mon 
coeur  ?  Has  all  been  done  as  you  wished 
in  these  years  of  absence?  What  ser 
vice  can  I  render  now  ?  " 

"  First,  tell  me  of  your  journey.  You 
came  as  I  directed  when  I  wrote  you 
from  Amsterdam,  and  reached  Cincin 
nati  safely?" 

"Yes,  yes;  there  were  friends  to  the 
Cause  in  each  stopping-place;  but  that 
dirty,  smoky  city,  —  bah !  I  hated  it." 

"And  you  still  have  our  chain  of 
communication  kept  open,  Tante  The*- 
rese?  The  information  I  was  able  to 
furnish  by  your  last  report  was  of  in 
calculable  value." 

"  I  paid  good  gold  for  that,  mon 
enfant.  But  the  poor  people,  —  ah,  my 
heart  aches  sometimes  for  those  who 
have  lost  all." 

"  I  have  no  pity  to  spare,"  said  Eve 
lyn  coldly.  "  The  innocent  always  suf 
fer  with  the  guilty.  But  of  one  thing  I 
1 08 


The  If^eb  of  Circumstance 

must  make  sure,  Tante  Therese;  now, 
more  than  ever,  it  must  not  be  sus 
pected  that  I  have  any  connection  with 
the  secret  organization  of  which  you 
are  the  nominal  head.  To  make  this 
secure,  I  have  taken  a  small  house  on 
Linden  Avenue  which  you  will  call 
your  own,  and  where  I  can  easily  com 
municate  with  you  by  a  system  which  I 
will  explain.  There  are  spies  all  around 
us,  —  spies  who  are  Federals,  spies  who 
are  Confederates,  and  our  moves  must 
be  made  with  extraordinary  caution. 
My  servants,  with  one  exception,  I 
brought  with  me  from  Amsterdam,  and 
I  shall  take  you,  myself,  this  evening,  in 
my  own  carriage,  to  the  house,  where 
you  will  remain.  Is  Petit  Jean  already 
in  the  city  ?  " 

"  He  came  ten  days  ago,  and  I  have 
his  address  here  in  my  reticule." 

"  He  will  live  with  you,  of  course, 
and  he  is  safe.  And  now,  Tante  Thd- 
109 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


rese,  tell  me  of  yourself,  and  hold  my 
hand  in  yours  as  you  used  to,  long  ago." 
For  a  brief  instant  her  voice  softened, 
but  as  the  Creole  poured  out  her  story, 
she  regained  her  usual  proud  serenity, 
and  they  sat  there  talking  while  the  mo 
ments  flew  by,  until  the  gathering  dark 
ness  was  upon  them  and  Andre*  entered 
with  the  lamps. 

"  Order  the  carriage,"  said  his  mis 
tress.  "  I  am  going  out  for  an  hour." 
Then,  as  he  closed  the  door,  she  drew 
close  to  The'rese  and  whispered  in  tones 
that  faltered  in  spite  of  herself:  "Tante 
The'rese,  tell  me  —  of  him!" 

"  Oh!  La,  la!  "  came  the  answer,  in  a 
venomous  whisper  that  sounded  like  the 
hiss  of  a  serpent.  "  M'sieu  le  General "  — 

"Not  his  name,"  interrupted  Evelyn 
fiercely.  "Do  not  speak  it  even  when 
we  are  alone." 

The'rese  nodded;  her  beadlike  eyes 
glittered  underneath  their  drooping  lids, 
no 


The  If^eb  of  Circumstance 

"  He  is  brave,  that  soldier,"  she  mut 
tered.  "He  fights,  I  am  told,  comme 
le  diable.  Those  Yankees  would  give 
much  to  capture  him,  it  is  said.  When 
Beast  Butler  came  to  New  Orleans  he 
disappeared.  He  is  in  Virginia  now 
with  the  General  Hampton.  Oh,  yes,  he 
is  cunning  like  the  fox,  and  he  escapes 
the  traps  we  lay  for  him,  always." 

"  He  will  not  escape  me !  " 

The  Creole  nodded  again;  then  she 
said  softly, — 

"  Mon  cceur,  we  will  work  together. 
Do  you  think  I  forget?  Do  you  think 
I  forgive?  I,  who  carried  you  in  these 
arms  that  night  when  I  found  you  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  "  — 

"  Tante  The'rese,  how  dare  you  ?  " 

"  Pardon,"  the  voice  said  humbly. 
"I  thought"  — 

"  I  forbid  you !  We  deal  only  with 
the  present.  The  future  shall  avenge 
the  wrongs  of  the  past." 


Chapter  VI 

A  Dangerous  Hazard 

"  RIDE  steadily,  but  not  too  fast  through 
the  streets  of  the  town,  and  avoid  any 
appearance  of  over-anxiety.  Go  down 
this  street  to  your  left  until  you  pass  a 
small  country  store  standing  by  itself, 
with  a  barn  on  the  same  lot,  but  at  a 
distance  from  it.  Then  go  to  the  right, 
and  follow  the  road,  —  it 's  a  pike  road, 
and  has  an  old  toll-gate.  Probably  the 
keeper  will  not  hear  you,  but  if  he  does 
there  is  no  harm  done  ;  he  has  long 
since  ceased  to  collect  toll.  Half  a  mile 
farther  on  you  '11  find  the  Lawtons' 
house,  —  they  will  know  best  how  to 
pass  you  through  Charlestown." 

The  speaker,  a  small  man,  riding  a 
big  gray  horse,  extended  his  hand  in 
a  farewell  grasp  to  Champe  Randolph, 

112 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

who  mounted  on  a  good-looking  bay, 
sat  listening  to  his  directions. 

"  One  moment,"  said  she,  detaining 
him.  "What  am  I  to  do  with  this 
horse  ?  " 

"  Leave  him  at  the  Lawtons',  and  I  '11 
send  a  boy  after  him  to-morrow.  Good- 
by,  and  good  luck  attend  you." 

Champe  gathered  up  her  reins,  and 
started  cautiously  down  the  main  street 
of  the  little  town  called  Duffield's  De 
pot.  It  was  six  o'clock,  and  a  cold  raw 
morning.  In  the  dim  light  of  dawn  the 
houses  looked  gaunt  and  forlorn  enough, 
but  the  hour  was  admirably  chosen  for 
Champe's  purpose,  as  no  one  seemed 
astir  except  two  men  who  emerged 
from  a  barn  with  a  market  wagon,  and 
an  old  woman  who  was  trotting  along 
the  path  with  a  covered  basket  on 
her  arm,  from  which  a  clucking  sound 
indicated  that  she  carried  chickens. 
Champe  passed  through  the  town  in 
"3 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


safety,  and  then  put  her  horse  to  a  can 
ter  along  the  pike  road.  It  was  some 
distance,  she  found,  to  the  old  toll-gate, 
but  no  one  was  stirring  even  there.  The 
gate  itself  had  been  partially  wrenched 
from  its  hinges,  and  stood  leaning  against 
the  house.  Champe  looked  up  as  she 
went  through,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of 
a  woman's  head  as  a  hand  pushed  the 
thin  calico  curtain  aside;  but  no  sound 
followed,  so  she  galloped  on,  and  after 
another  ten  minutes  saw  the  comfort 
able,  old-fashioned  house  she  was  seek 
ing  appear  in  the  growing  light  of 
the  winter  morning.  In  ordinary  times 
Champe  would  have  hesitated  to  make 
her  first  descent  at  that  untimely  hour 
upon  a  perfectly  unknown  family,  no 
matter  what  their  reputation  for  hospi 
tality;  but  so  sure  was  she  of  a  wel 
come  from  sympathizers  of  the  beloved 
Cause  that  she  rode  boldly  up  to  the 
front  door,  and  springing  from  her 
114 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

horse's  back,  she  passed  the  reins  around 
a  convenient  pillar,  and  walking  across 
the  veranda,  rapped  smartly  with  her 
crop  on  the  panel  of  the  door.  For  some 
seconds  there  was  no  reply;  then  she 
heard  a  door  open  and  shut  inside,  and 
presently  a  negro  came  running  around 
the  side  of  the  house. 

"  Howdy,  Missy,"  he  said,  with  a 
respectful  scrape  of  his  foot.  "  Shall 
I  take  de  hoss  to  de  stable?  Young 
Miss  '11  be  down  shortly;  yo'se  mighty 
welcome.  Please  cum'  'roun'  to  de  side 
do'  an'  I  '11  let  yo'  in." 

Champe  thanked  him,  and  turned  to 
follow,  when  the  door  opened,  and 
a  sweet-looking  girl  on  its  threshold 
said,  — 

"  Oh,  do  come  in.  We  were  expect 
ing  you,  but  not  until  later  in  the  day." 
And  she  extended  a  friendly  hand  to 
her  visitor. 

"  I  am  Champe  Randolph,"  saicj  the 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


newcomer,  "  and  shall  be  most  grate 
ful  for  your  aid  and  assistance." 

"  And  I  am  Phoebe  Lawton.  I  think 
mother  has  known  you  in  Richmond, 
but  whether  she  did  or  not,  we  are  just 
as  glad  to  do  what  we  can  for  you.  I 
got  the  message  by  *  underground '  last 
night,  only  we  did  n't  know  which  way 
you  were  coming,  —  up  from  Richmond, 
or  out  of  Washington."  As  she  talked 
the  girl  led  the  way  through  the  hall 
and  up  the  staircase  to  a  big  room  full 
of  old-fashioned  furniture,  and  pulling 
up  the  window  shades,  smiled  a  wel 
come  to  her  guest. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  must  be  tired  and 
hungry.  The  servants  will  have  coffee 
ready  in  a  very  few  minutes,  and  if  you 
will  lie  down  and  rest  I  will  send  your 
breakfast  at  any  hour  you  wish  to 
your  room." 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Champe.  "  I  '11 
wash  my  face  and  hands,  drink  my 
116 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

coffee,  and  join  you  when  you  take 
breakfast." 

"Very  well,"  said  her  hostess.  "But 
you  had  better  take  my  advice  and  try 
to  rest  a  while,"  and  with  another  smil 
ing  nod  she  closed  the  door. 

Two  hours  after,  Champe  was  eating 
a  real  Southern  breakfast  and  enjoying 
it  greatly  as  she  chatted  merrily  with 
her  hostess. 

Mrs.  Lawton,  a  kindly  faced,  delicate 
looking  woman,  whose  husband  and 
two  sons  were  in  the  Confederate  army, 
had  shown  so  much  kindness  to  the 
wounded  and  sick  Union  soldiers  that 
she  had  been  given  a  pass  by  the 
general  commanding  to  come  and  go 
as  she  pleased  from  Charlestown,  and 
although  she  was  well  known  as  a 
Southerner,  no  overt  act  had  been  laid 
at  her  door,  and  she  had,  so  far,  been 
spared  visits  from  the  provost-marshal 
at  Duffield's.  But  Mrs.  Lawton,  while 
117 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


she  would  give  all  aid  in  her  power  to 
those  needing  it  in  order  to  go  through 
the  lines,  had  conscientious  scruples 
against  using  her  pass  except  for  the 
purpose  for  which  it  had  been  given, 
and  therefore  she  was  casting  about  for 
some  device  by  which  she  could  con 
trive  to  send  Champe  through  Charles- 
town  in  a  disguise  clever  enough  to 
deceive  the  lynx-eyed  Union  officer 
who  occupied  the  provost  -  marshal's 
office. 

"  How  much  time  have  you  to  spare  ?  " 
she  asked,  after  Champe  had  explained 
the  necessity  of  haste  on  her  er 
rand. 

"  It  is  imperative  that  I  start  at  once," 
replied  Champe.  "Colonel  Mosby  will 
reach  Berry's  Ferry  within  two  days, 
and  unless  I  can  manage  to  meet  him 
there  I  am  sure  to  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  which  would  be  fatal !  If 
I  can  have  military  escort  I  shall  be 
118 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

able  to  cross  the  Blue  Ridge  as  I  have 
done  before,  and  reach  Orange  Court 
House  in  safety." 

"  If  that  be  the  case  we  must  push 
you  forward.  Phoebe,  do  you  think  we 
could  manage  to  disguise  Miss  Ran 
dolph  as  a  German  market-woman?" 

"Capitally,  mother!"  cried  Phoebe. 

"You  see,"  explained  Mrs.  Lawton, 
"  the  principal  traffic  between  here  and 
Charlestown  is  in  that  form.  You  will 
have  to  obtain  a  permit  to  go  in,  and 
another  to  get  out,  and  the  only  person 
who  can  procure  them  for  you  without 
exciting  suspicion  is  Dutch  Hans.  He 
has  done  more  for  the  Cause  by  passing 
Confederates  through  the  lines  than  any 
one  in  this  vicinity,  and  you  can  trust 
him  implicitly." 

"  I  was  told  to  find  him,  and  shall 
be  delighted  to  make  his  acquaintance. 
What  is  to  be  done  to  transform   me 
into  a  market-woman  ?  " 
119 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  In  the  first  place,"  said  Mrs.  Law- 
ton,  surveying  Champe's  slight,  elegant 
figure  with  a  smile,  "you  must  take  off 
that  very  stylish  green  habit,  which  we 
will  hide  under  some  bags  of  potatoes 
in  the  cart,  as  you  will  need  to  resume 
it  on  the  other  side  of  Charlestown. 
Then  I  shall  have  to  stain  your  hands." 
Champe  gave  a  little  shudder.  "It's 
not  agreeable,  but  butternut  juice  is 
excellent  and  will  come  off.  Come  up 
to  my  room,  where  I  have  the  necessary 
articles,  and  we  '11  see  what  dress  is 
needed." 

"  Well,"  said  Champe,  inspecting  her 
hands  after  the  staining  process  had 
been  completed,  "  I  have  tried  a  good 
many  experiments,  but  this  is  my  first 
attempt  with  butternuts,  and  I  call  it 
a  huge  success." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Lawton  from  the 
depths  of  her  closet  where  she  was 
hunting  through  her  wardrobe,  "  I  've 
1 20 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

great  confidence  in  it.  How  will  this 
skirt  and  jacket  do,  Phcebe  ?  " 

Champe  beheld  the  faded  old  linsey- 
woolsey  gown  with  dancing  eyes.  She 
was  in  her  element  now,  and  proceeded 
to  gather  its  voluminous  pleats  around 
her  shapely  waist  with  but  scant  suc 
cess. 

"A  needle  and  thread,  dear  Mrs. 
Lawton,"  she  demanded,  and  sat  down 
on  the  floor  with  Phoebe  to  help  her. 
"  I  shall  have  to  stuff  that  jacket; 
luckily  for  me  it 's  cold  weather." 

"  Here  's  an  old  felt  hat,  and  a  worsted 
muffler  to  tie  over  it.  You  must  be  care 
ful  to  conceal  your  mouth  and  teeth, 
as  I  cannot  stain  them,  unfortunately." 

Champe  laughed  gleefully.  Her  ex 
quisite  mouth  and  even  more  perfect 
teeth  were  the  envy  of  every  woman 
who  knew  her,  and  Phoebe  sighed,  al 
most  in  despair  as  she  looked  at  them. 

"Don't  let  that  muffler  down  for  a 

121 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


second;  you've  no  idea  how  it  would 
give  you  away." 

"  It 's  a  capital  disguise,"  said  Mrs. 
Lawton.  "Phcebe,  run  down  and  have 
Jake  take  the  farm  horses  (the  old  pair, 
Captain  Rollins  might  recognize  the 
others)  and  hitch  them  to  the  covered 
cart.  Then  hide  Miss  Randolph's  habit, 
riding  hat,  and  fur  cloak  under  the 
potato  bags,  and  just  add  some  turnips 
and  winter  cabbage  for  Hans;  he'll  be 
sure  to  have  some  one  to  give  them  to. 
And  as  soon  as  all  is  ready,  call  us,  and 
we  '11  come  down  to  the  side  door." 

In  due  time  the  cart  was  brought 
round,  and  Jake,  grinning  and  chuck 
ling,  helped  the  queer  looking  market- 
woman  to  clamber  inside  on  the  broad 
seat.  Phoebe  climbed  on  the  step  to 
give  a  few  final  directions  to  Champe. 

"  Remember,  it 's  only  about  five 
miles  to  Hans'  cabin.  It 's  a  little  yel 
low  house,  back  among  the  pine-trees, 

122 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

and  has  a  boot-and-shoe  sign  nailed  to 
a  tree  out  in  front.  You  may  very  likely 
meet  other  market  people,  but  you  don't 
need  to  do  more  than  nod  to  them  in 
passing;  they  won't  molest  you.  But 
do  be  careful  of. the  Union  picket  guard; 
don't  mistake  the  turn  I  told  you  of  at 
the  second  milestone,  and  you  need  n't 
fear  them  after  passing  that  point.  Hans 
will  see  to  the  horses,  and  return  them. 
Good-by,  good-by!  " 

Both  women  stood  waving  her  a  God 
speed  as  she  rattled  off  in  the  springless 
cart,  turned  out  of  the  gate  and  disap 
peared  down  the  road. 

The  farm  horses  proved  rather  good 
nags  at  a  pinch,  and  Champe  passed  the 
second  milestone  without  adventure, 
and  jogged  contentedly  on  until  she 
spied  the  little  yellow  house  in  the  midst 
of  a  pine  grove.  The  queer  sign,  with 
its  shoe  painted  nearly  the  size  of  its 
boot,  swung  to  and  fro  upon  a  tree 
123 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


alongside  the  road;  and  as  she  drew  up 
her  horses,  she  saw  in  the  window  a 
pleasant,  fat  face  which  she  was  sure 
belonged  to  the  Dutch  shoemaker.  He 
came  slowly  out  of  his  door,  down  the 
little  path,  and  eyed  her  rather  suspi 
ciously  as  she  beckoned  him  to  ap 
proach. 

"  Vote  you  vant  mit  me  ?  "  he  asked, 
resting  one  hand  on  the  wheel  of  the 
cart  as  he  peered  up  into  her  eyes.  "  I 
has  all  dot  market  stuff  vot  I  vants  here 
in  mine  cellar." 

Champe  put  up  her  hand  and,  loosen 
ing  the  disfiguring  muffler  as  she  spoke, 
said  quietly, — 

"  But  you  will  find  room  for  these. 
They  come  from  Mrs.  Lawton's  and 
the  '  old  plantation.' " 

"  Ach,  '  beyond  the  lines,' "  said  the 

Dutchman,  returning  the  countersign, 

while  an  amused  smile  crossed  his  face 

as   he   surveyed    her.    "And   vot  can 

124 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

ole  Hans  do  for  you?  Vere  be  you 
going  to?" 

"Back  to  Richmond,"  said  Champe 
boldly.  "And  you  must  help  me  to 
get  through  Charlestown,  and  then  from 
there  to  Berry's  Ferry." 

"I  see,  I  see;  an'  you  vants  pass. 
But  vere  you  go  to  sthop  after  Charles- 
town?  You  can't  make  journey  in  cold 
vedder  so  far  to-day." 

"  I  must  trust  to  find  some  house  for 
shelter,"  said  Champe,  as  Hans  climbed 
into  the  cart,  and  she  rolled  her  muffler 
closely  around  her  face.  "  Have  you 
got  the  passes  that  are  necessary?" 

"  I  gets  dem  to  de  provost-marshal's 
office.  Vere  you  tink?  And,  lady,  you 
must  not  speak  von  vord,  —  you  under 
stand?  Let  me  do  all  de  talking." 

As  the  houses  and  church  spires  of 

Charlestown  could  already  be  seen  in 

the  distance,  it  did  not  take  them  long, 

even  with  the  jog-trot  of  the  horses,  to 

125 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


reach  there,  and  Hans  drew  up  the  cart 
before  the  door  of  the  provost-marshal's, 
whose  office  was  on  the  principal  street. 
There  were  several  soldiers  in  blue  uni 
forms  standing  about,  who  plied  Hans 
with  questions  when  the  corporal  went 
inside  to  obtain  the  necessary  papers 
for  him,  and  they  fingered  the  vegeta 
bles  at  the  back  of  the  cart,  one  of  them 
pretending  to  steal  a  cabbage,  which  he 
tried  to  stuff  under  his  coat.  The  good- 
natured  Dutchman  turned  the  laugh  on 
him  by  throwing  him  another,  and  was 
so  successful  in  engaging  the  attention 
of  the  guard  that  the  men  did  not  at 
tempt  to  bandy  jokes  with  his  compan 
ion.  After  waiting  fully  half  an  hour, 
during  which  time  Champe  felt  more 
nervous  than  she  had  ever  done  when 
she  had  only  her  own  quick  wit  to  rely 
upon,  the  coveted  papers  were  handed 
them,  and  they  were  free  to  depart. 
"  Good  luck,  Dutchy,"  called  one  of 
126 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

the  men  after  them;  "if  yer  don't  sell 
all  that  stuff,  we  '11  relieve  yer  of  the 
trouble  of  carrying  it  back."  And  his 
good-natured  guffaw  followed  them 
down  the  street. 

Hans  took  a  somewhat  circuitous 
route  to  reach  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
and  Champe  noticed  that  he  seemed  to 
be  looking  for  some  one.  They  finally 
stopped  in  front  of  a  rather  pretentious- 
looking  white  house,  from  which  there 
came  slowly  forth  a  solemn-faced  negro. 
At  a  sign  from  Hans,  he  filled  his  arms 
with  the  vegetables,  and  then  said  in  a 
whisper,  — 

"  Any  orders  for  to-day  ?  " 

"  Go  to  the  cabin  and  meet  us,"  said 
Hans.  "  And,  Toby,  I  vants  de  sorrel 
horse.  You  un'stand  ?  " 

Toby  nodded  soberly  and  disap 
peared. 

"Dot's  all  right,"  continued  Hans, 
driving  off.  "And  now,  lady,  de  vay 
127 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


is  clear.  Ve  go  to  Toby's  cabin,  and 
dere  you  takes  off  dese  tings,  and  can 
ride  vere  you  vants  to  go.  Here  is  your 
pass,  —  don't  lose  dot." 

Just  beyond  the  town,  and  standing 
by  itself,  was  a  decent-looking  cabin, 
which  Hans  pointed  out  as  their  desti 
nation.  Toby,  he  informed  Champe, 
was  a  tobacco  smuggler,  and  added 
that,  if  the  lady  wished,  he  could  ac 
company  her  to  Berry's  Ferry  as  guide. 
Champe  climbed  out  of  the  market  cart 
at  the  cabin  door  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 
It  had  been  a  hard  ride  in  a  cart  with 
out  springs,  and  she  was  glad  enough 
to  unpack  her  habit,  cloak,  and  hat,  and 
leave  off  her  uncomfortable  disguise. 
There  proved  to  be  quite  a  clean  room 
inside  the  smuggler's  cabin.  When  she 
came  out  she  found  Toby  holding  a 
horse  with  a  lady's  saddle  on  its  back, 
and  Hans  preparing  to  start  on  his  re 
turn  home  with  the  cart.  He  refused 
128 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

all  compensation,  to  Champa's  surprise, 
and  then  told  her  she  could  leave  the 
horse  (a  pretty  sorrel  mare)  at  Berry's 
Ferry  with  the  ferryman,  as  Toby  would 
be  going  there  in  a  few  days  and  would 
fetch  it  back  to  Charlestown.  He  held 
the  stirrup  for  her  as  she  mounted,  and 
she  shook  the  reins  and  rode  rapidly 
away. 

Notwithstanding  the  day  was  still  raw 
and  cold,  and  that  Champe  was  begin 
ning  to  realize  she  had  breakfasted 
somewhat  early,  the  exhilaration  which 
she  always  felt  when  on  horseback,  and 
the  spice  of  danger  which  was  involved 
in  her  crossing  the  lines  was  enough  to 
restore  her  somewhat  jaded  spirits,  and 
she  began  to  enjoy  herself  thoroughly 
as  she  rode  on  through  the  country, 
now  sparsely  inhabited.  For  months  this 
had  been  the  debatable  ground  of  both 
armies;  plantations  held  one  week  by 
the  Federals  would  be  raided  the  next 
129 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


by  Mosby,  Hampton,  or  Stuart,  and  the 
luckless  owners  either  despoiled  by  the 
one  or  content  to  give  what  they  had 
left  to  the  other. 

Riding  along  at  an  easy  canter,  she 
came  to  where  the  road  wound  through 
a  pine  grove,  and  suddenly,  as  she 
neared  the  end  of  the  trees,  she  heard 
the  rattle  of  a  gun,  and  a  voice  cried,  — 

"Halt!" 

Champe  drew  up  her  horse  instantly, 
and  a  picket  guard  filed  out,  surrounding 
her.  She  looked  at  them  quickly;  they 
appeared  to  be  Germans,  possibly  be 
longing  to  Sigel's  corps.  Then  she  drew 
out  her  pass,  and  as  she  unfolded  it, 
glancing  casually  at  it  for  the  first  time, 
she  saw,  to  her  horror,  that  she  was 
described  thereon  as  a  market-woman! 
Why  had  she  been  so  foolhardy  ?  How 
should  she  account  for  her  green  habit 
and  the  mare? 

The  corporal  took  the  paper  she  coolly 
130 


A  Dangerous  Hazard 

handed  him.  There  was  an  instant's 
pause,  then,  quick  as  a  flash,  Champe 
realized  the  situation.  The  man  was 
holding  the  pass  upside  down;  he  could 
not  read  English ! 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  she,  smiling 
down  at  him,  though  her  heart  did  beat 
a  trifle  faster.  "  I  had  it  from  the  pro 
vost-marshal  at  Charlestown  two  hours 
ago.  You  see  it  has  the  printed  head 
ing,"  and  she  touched  the  paper  with 
her  whip,  devoutly  praying  that  his 
comrades  were  as  ignorant  as  he. 

The  corporal  touched  his  cap;  it  was 
his  first  week  of  service  in  the  Valley, 
and  this  beautiful,  sweet-voiced  girl  ap 
pealed  to  his  soft  Teutonic  heart.  There 
could  be  nothing  contraband  about  her. 

"  Dot  ?s  all  right,  lady,"  he  said,  re 
leasing  her  rein  as  he  spoke ;  and  Champe 
dashed  off.,  turning  in  her  saddle  to  see 
him  standing,  cap  in  hand,  watching 
her  as  she  made  good  her  escape. 


Chapter  VII 

The  Misadventures  of  a  Night 

"  You  sent  -for  me,  general  ?  "  Jack 
Phillipse  pushed  aside  the  curtain  of  the 
tent  and  saluted.  The  general  sat  at 
his  camp  table  writing  hurriedly,  and  a 
trooper,  armed  and  ready  for  instant 
service,  stood  at  his  back. 

"  Sit  down,  Captain  Phillipse,"  said 
the  general,  pushing  a  stool  toward 
Jack,  as  he  threw  down  his  pen.  "  Ser 
geant,  you  will  report  to  Captain  Phil 
lipse  in  half  an  hour  with  an  escort  of 
twenty  men,  ready  for  a  night  ride.  You 
may  go." 

The  trooper  saluted,  and  left  the  tent 
as  ordered.  Jack  sat  waiting  for  in 
structions. 

"  Information  received  from  Wash 
ington  requires  my  sending  out  a  scout- 
132 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

ing  party  at  once.  The  secret  service 
men  say  that  there  is  a  house  this  side 
of  the  Blue  Ridge  which  is  used  as  a 
rendezvous  for  a  particularly  clever  set 
of  rebel  spies.  So  far  we  have  not 
been  able  to  locate  the  plantation,  but 
it  is  narrowed  down  to  one  of  three  in 
this  vicinity.  There  is  necessity  for 
speed,  as  Mosby  is  known  to  have 
started  from  below,  and  is  likely  to  be 
in  communication  with  this  very  point." 
He  pulled  a  map  toward  him  and  bent 
over  it  for  a  minute.  "  The  plantation 
ought  to  be  about  here,"  —  indicating 
the  spot, —  "almost  in  a  direct  line  with 
Berry's  Ferry.  The  house  stands  on  a 
wooded  rise  of  ground,  and  there  is  a 
ravine  not  far  from  it.  It  is  somewhat 
difficult  of  access  because  of  the  pine 
woods,  and  you  must  use  great  cau 
tion  in  approaching  it.  Sergeant  Finley 
has  scouted  here  before,  and  I  think 
you  will  find  him  useful.  After  to-mor- 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


row  evening  report  to  me  at  Winches 
ter;  until  then  the  command  remains 
here." 

The  day,  which  had  been  chilly,  with 
a  raw,  cold  wind  blowing,  had  cleared 
by  nightfall,  and  as  Jack  left  the  tent  to 
get  his  horse  and  join  the  men  assigned 
to  the  scouting  party,  the  stars  were  out 
and  there  was  a  crispness  in  the  air 
which  bespoke  better  weather.  Jack 
much  preferred  active  service  to  his 
detail  at  Fort  McHenry,  and  since  re 
joining  the  army  in  the  Valley  had  been 
almost  constantly  in  the  saddle.  And 
yet,  as  he  walked  briskly  along,  he  was 
thinking  of  the  Monumental  City,  seeing 
a  pair  of  mischievous  hazel  eyes  and  a 
graceful  figure  that  somehow  haunted 
him  with  the  tantalizing,  elusive  memory 
of  past  acquaintance. 

Jack  led  his  little  command  in  a  south 
east  direction  for  about  an  hour,  then, 
coming  to  a  fork  in  the  road  where  two 
'34 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

roads  met,  the  sergeant  rode  forward 
and,  saluting,  said, — 

"  Beg  pardon,  captain;  if  you  turn  to 
the  right  here  I  think  we  will  strike  the 
plantation  you  are  searching  for.  It  lies 
over  the  brow  of  that  hill,  and  there 's 
a  ravine  alongside  of  it." 

"How  much  farther?"  asked  Jack, 
turning  his  horse  in  the  direction  indi 
cated. 

"Two  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,  sir; 
three  by  the  road." 

Proceeding  cautiously  along,  Jack 
reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  then, 
drawing  rein,  looked  carefully  about. 
The  pine  woods,  dark  and  gloomy,  con 
fronted  him  on  the  east;  the  road  skirted 
them  as  far  as  he  could  see  in  the  clear 
starlit  night. 

"  The  path  where  we  can  enter  is  a 
stone's-throw  from  here,  sir,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "  It 's  some  distance  after  we 
are  inside  the  woods  before  you  reach 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  house.  The  road  winds  considera 
bly." 

"  Can  we  make  a  de'tour  and  approach 
through  the  ravine,  Finley  ?  " 

"Just  as  the  captain  pleases,"  said 
the  trooper.  "  Shall  I  ride  forward  and 
reconnoitre  ?  " 

"  Go  slowly,  and  I  '11  follow  you." 

In  this  order  the  little  troop  moved 
silently  on  through  the  trees  for  perhaps 
a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when  they  came 
suddenly  upon  an  open  space  that  had 
evidently  been  a  lawn,  beyond  which 
stood  a  wide,  low  house  with  the  usual 
broad  veranda  running  around  the  front 
and  one  side.  Jack  dismounted  noise 
lessly  and  threw  his  rein  to  Finley. 

"  Sergeant,"  he  ordered,  "  hobble  the 
horses  in  the  ravine  with  a  trooper  to 
guard  them.  Place  a  cordon  of  men 
around  the  house,  being  careful  that 
they  are  hidden  from  view  by  the  trees. 
Allow  no  one  to  pass  the  lines  going  to 
136 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

or  from  the  house,  and  station  a  picket 
on  the  road  to  warn  us  of  approach  from 
that  quarter.  When  this  is  done,  meet 
me  at  the  barn." 

Jack  gazed  up  at  the  house  as  he 
slipped  quietly  through  the  trees  toward 
the  barn.  It  looked  deserted  and  mel 
ancholy,  the  wreck  of  what  had  been 
a  fine  old  mansion.  One  of  the  pillars 
which  adorned  the  front  was  badly  bat 
tered,  and  part  of  the  veranda  railing 
had  been  torn  off,  and  hung  brokenly 
upon  the  ground.  There  was  not  a  sign 
of  life  about  the  place  save  a  faint  gleam 
of  light  in  an  upper  window.  Jack  crept 
cautiously  to  the  barn,  which  stood  a 
short  distance  from  the  house,  partly 
hidden  by  the  pines.  The  barn  door 
was  carefully  latched,  with  a  stick  thrust 
through  an  iron  staple.  He  pulled  it 
out,  and,  dragging  the  door  open,  en 
tered,  leaving  it  ajar.  As  his  eyes  be 
came  accustomed  to  the  semi-darkness 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


inside,  he  saw  there  were  several  empty 
stalls,  but  a  restless  movement  in  one 
betrayed  the  presence  of  a  horse.  As 
he  made  his  way  slowly  toward  it,  he 
stumbled,  and,  stooping  down  to  push 
the  obstruction  aside,  he  ran  his  hand 
over  what  proved  to  be  a  lady's  side 
saddle.  At  that  moment  the  horse,  re 
cognizing  the  presence  of  other  horses 
in  the  vicinity,  neighed  shrilly.  Jack 
sprang  forward,  and  feeling  his  way 
into  the  stall  caught  the  mare's  nose 
and  held  it  tightly,  stroking  the  animal 
gently  as  he  did  so.  For  a  moment  he 
stood  straining  his  ears  for  a  sound, 
then,  hearing  nothing,  slipped  back  and 
crept  out  of  the  barn.  Standing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  building,  he  heard  a  door 
open  on  the  veranda;  then  a  voice 
said, — 

"  Dey  's    nuffin'   de    matter,    honey. 
Dat's  jus'  de  mare  in  de  barn.    Reckon 
she 's  kinder  lonesome,  dat  's  all." 
'38 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

"  I  'm  afraid  she  's  loose  in  the  stall," 
said  a  girl's  voice  in  reply.  "  I  '11  just 
step  down  to  the  barn  and  see  if  it 's  all 
safe.  Keep  the  door  open  till  I  return, 
Judith." 

Jack  darted  around  the  corner  of  the 
barn,  and  nearly  fell  into  Sergeant  Fin- 
ley's  arms.  Gripping  him  by  the  wrist, 
Jack  muttered  in  his  ear,  — 

"  Don't  molest  the  girl.  I  'm  going  to 
enter  the  house  in  her  absence.  Remain 
on  guard  in  sight  of  the  windows.  If  I 
need  you,  I  '11  manage  to  raise  the  shade 
in  the  room  where  you  see  that  light. 
If  I  fire  my  revolver,  rush  the  men  in 
side  at  once." 

The  house  door  was  now  partly  open, 
and  by  the  light  of  a  candle,  which  the 
old  negro  woman  had  placed  on  a  table 
in  the  hall,  Jack  saw,  as  he  drew  nearer, 
that  in  its  general  plan  the  house  was 
like  most  of  plantation  houses,  with  a 
hall  running  through  from  front  to  back. 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


The  entrance  to  the  barn  could  not  be 
seen  from  the  doorway,  and  that  fact 
was  evidently  causing  dismay  to  the 
waiting  negro,  for  she  walked  across 
the  veranda,  talking  to  herself  as  she 
scrambled  down  the  steps. 

"  I  had  n't  oughter  let  Missy  go  dar 
'lone.  P'raps  dey  mought  be  a  strag 
gler  hidin'  in  de  barn.  Nebber  can 
tell  whar  dese  Yanks  is  boun'  to  turn 
up." 

Jack  saw  his  opportunity  and  prompt 
ly  took  it.  As  the  old  woman  tottered 
down  the  path  he  darted  across  the  few 
feet  of  lawn  between  him  and  the  house, 
and  with  an  agile  spring  landed  on  the 
veranda  where  the  broken  rail  hung 
down.  In  another  second  he  was  inside 
the  hall.  It  was  empty,  and,  as  he  cal 
culated,  the  staircase  was  at  the  right, 
with  a  turn  at  the  landing  above. 

Taking  this  in  at  a  rapid  glance,  he 
was  about  to  pursue  his  search  when 
140 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

a  voice  behind  him  said,  clearly  and 
coldly,  — 

"  Who  are  you,  sir,  and  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

And  then,  two  simultaneous  excla 
mations  —  as  they  faced  each  other. 

"Captain  Phillipse!" 

"Miss  Randolph!" 

The  girl  recovered  herself  first,  and, 
with  every  nerve  tingling  with  excite 
ment,  her  spirits  rose  to  meet  what  she 
feared  was  a  desperate  dilemma.  But 
her  gaze  was  steady,  and  her  smile  un 
troubled  as  she  met  his  astonished  eyes, 
and  her  most  malicious  imp  of  mischief 
prompted  her  to  quote :  — 

"  Oh,  '  Come  you  in  peace,  or  come 
you  in  war '  —  The  latter,  judging  by 
the  revolver  in  your  belt.  Surely,  Aunt 
Judith  and  I  are  hardly  foemen  worthy 
of  your  —  bullets  ?  " 

She  took  up  the  candle  as  she  spoke, 
and  motioned  Jack  to  follow  her  inside 
141 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  parlor  door.  As  he  did  so,  the 
shapely  figure  in  its  green  habit  supplied 
the  chord  of  memory  which  had,  so  far, 
eluded  him,  and  springing  to  her  side 
he  said  eagerly,  — 

"I  know  you  now!  You  rescued  me 
at  Hazel  River  when  I  was  half-dead 
with  cold  and  hunger." 

"Thereby  ' affording  aid  and  comfort 
to  the  enemy '  Well,  and  you  repaid 
me  the  other  day  in  Baltimore  when  you 
sent  the  provost  -  marshal's  sergeant 
about  his  business." 

"  But  I  fear  I  took  unfair  advantage 
of  your  humanity.  I  found  that  butter 
nut  suit  on  a  poor  dead  fellow  who  lay 
in  the  thicket,  and  you  must  have  sup 
posed  you  were  helping  one  of  your  own 
soldiers,  not  a  despised  Yankee.  For 
give  the  ruse,  and  let  me  thank  you 
again  with  all  my  heart." 

A  brilliant  blush  dyed  Champe's 
cheeks.  Some  new-born  reticence  for- 
142 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

bade  her  to  confess  that  she  had  pene 
trated  his  disguise.  Besides,  she  hated 
Yankees;  that  this  one  was  daring, 
dashing,  and  manly  after  her  own  stand 
ard  did  not  make  it  necessary  to  — 
Heavens!  she  had  forgotten  who  was 
upstairs.  Pray  kind  fortune  this  col 
loquy  had  not  been  overheard. 

"  I  think  you  have  made  the  score 
even,  Captain  Phillipse.  But  what 
brings  you  here  at  dead  of  night?  May 
I  offer  you  some  refreshments,  or  sup 
ply  you  with  a  map  of  the  country  in 
case  you  have  lost  your  way  ?  " 

Then  Jack  remembered.  "  The  rank 
est  rebel  of  all  Baltimore,"  —  that  was 
what  Ned  Harris  called  her.  And  in 
this  house,  supposed  to  be  a  rendezvous 
for  traitors  and  spies.  It  was  his  turn  to 
color  hotly  now. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  regret 
that  my  errand  involves  what  I  fear  may 
cause  you  discomfort.  I  am  ordered  to 
H3 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


search  this  house  and  surrounding  plan 
tation  for  enemies  to  the  Union  sup 
posed  to  be  concealed  here." 

"  Why  not  say  rebels  ? "  she  said, 
with  curling  lip.  "  Do  you  mean  that 
you  will  arrest  me  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  give  me  cause,"  re 
plied  Jack  gravely.  "  I  must  obey  my 
orders,  Miss  Randolph." 

"Then  I  will  come  with  you,"  said 
Champe,  seizing  the  candle. 

Jack  looked  her  in  the  face.  There 
was  wrath  and  defiance  in  her  eyes,  but 
not  treachery;  well,  he  would  trust  her 
so  far. 

"  Lead  the  way,"  he  said,  bowing 
courteously  as  he  stepped  aside,  and 
Champe  noticed  with  a  thrill  of  resent 
ful  admiration  that  he  did  not  offer  to 
draw  his  revolver.  She  flitted  down 
the  hall,  but  at  the  staircase  he  laid  a 
detaining  hand  upon  her  arm. 

"  Upstairs     first,"    he    said    firmly. 
144 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

"  There  is  a  light  in  one  of  the  upper 
windows  which  I  wish  to  investigate." 

"  It  is  in  my  room,"  returned  Champe 
haughtily.  "  But  I  believe  the  Union 
officers  are  no  respecters  of  persons," 
and  as  she  uttered  the  taunt  she  blew 
the  candle  out. 

With  a  mad  rush  Jack  reached  the 
landing.  He  felt  her  soft  form  press 
against  his  arm  as  he  flung  himself  for 
ward  to  find  the  turn,  where  her  know 
ledge  of  it  gave  her  momentary  advan 
tage.  At  the  head  of  the  stairs  he  could 
see  a  faint  thread  of  light  under  the  sill 
of  the  door  they  were  seeking.  There 
was  a  sweep  of  her  skirt,  —  a  smoth 
ered  exclamation  as  he  caught  her  in  his 
arms  staggering  against  the  door,  which 
opened  suddenly,  and  flung  them  head 
long  inside  the  room. 

"  Release  that  young  lady,  sir,"  said 
a  cold  voice. 

Jack's  hand  closed  on  his  revolver 
H5 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


as  he  struggled  to  his  feet  and  wheeled 
sharply  around.  Seated  at  a  desk  in 
the  centre  of  the  room  was  a  man  in  a 
gray  uniform,  holding  a  pistol  in  each 
hand,  and  both  covering  Jack.  Well 
known  in  the  Valley  was  that  face  and 
form;  since  the  death  of  Jeb  Stuart,  this 
man  was  held  the  most  daring  and  reck 
less  of  all  the  cavalry  leaders  of  the 
South,  save  one. 

"  General  Laf onte !  " 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  Confederate 
with  cool  irony,  "  you  appear  to  know 
me.  To  what  do  I  owe  the  honor  of 
this  visit?" 

"  I  demand  your  surrender,"  retorted 
Jack.  "  My  troop  surrounds  the  house. 
You  are  my  prisoner." 

There  was  a  crash,  a  sudden  flare  of 
the  lamp  which  the  Confederate  officer 
flung  on  the  floor,  then  darkness,  as 
Jack  shouted,  — 

"  Miss  Randolph,  for  God's  sake,  don't 
146 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

move !  "  and,  aiming  at  the  ceiling, 
fired  his  revolver. 

No  answer;  but  the  rush  of  men 
across  the  lawn,  and  the  tramp  of  feet  in 
the  hall. 

"  This  way,  sergeant !  "  shouted  Jack. 
"  There  's  a  candle  somewhere  at  the 
foot  of  the  staircase.  Fetch  me  a  light 
at  once." 

He  could  hear  the  old  woman  below 
scolding  and  imploring  in  the  same 
breath,  as  he  stumbled  around  the  room 
thick  with  the  fumes  of  the  extinguished 
lamp.  His  hands  trembled;  where  was 
Miss  Randolph  ?  Then  in  the  darkness 
a  low  laugh  floated  on  his  eagerly  lis 
tening  ears,  — 

"Checkmate!" 

It  was  hardly  more  than  the  softest 
whisper,  but  when  the  sergeant  and 
his  troopers  rushed  on  the  scene  the 
light  disclosed  a  young  woman  seated 
calmly  in  a  big  rickety  armchair,  and 
'47 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Captain  Phillipse  leaning  against  the 
desk  revolver  in  hand.  His  prisoner 
had  disappeared. 

Jack  gave  a  quick  glance  around  the 
room.  There  were  two  doors,  one  by 
which  he  had  entered,  and  another 
which  he  wrenched  open.  It  proved 
to  be  a  closet,  empty,  except  for  a  fur 
cloak  which  he  recognized  as  having 
seen  Champe  wear  on  the  Hazel  River 
bank. 

"  Take  two  men  and  go  through  the 
rooms  on  this  floor,  sergeant.  I  '11 
search  the  attic.  Are  sentries  still 
posted  ?  " 

"Yes,  captain." 

"  No  one  has  passed  you  coming  up  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  I  left  a  guard  below.  No 
one  could  escape  that  way." 

"  General  Lafonte  is  concealed  in  the 
house,  somewhere.  Secure  him  without 
injury  if  possible.    Let  one  of  the  men 
guard  this  door  until  I  return." 
148 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

"  Beg  pardon,  captain,"  interposed 
Finley  as  Jack  was  rushing  away. 
"  There  was  signaling  of  some  sort 
going  on  from  the  room  above,  —  per 
haps  it  is  the  attic.  I  saw  a  light  flash 
twice,  and  one  of  the  men  reports  see 
ing  a  mysterious  gleam  like  a  lantern 
from  the  north  side  at  least  a  mile 
away." 

"  On  a  height,  or  lower  down?  " 

"  It  appeared  to  be  high  up,  sir;  either 
in  a  tree  or  from  a  house." 

"  Very  good,  sergeant." 

Jack  followed  the  men  to  the  door  of 
the  room,  then  turned  back  to  where 
Champe  sat  regarding  him  with  her  tan 
talizing  smile. 

"  Why  do  you  do  this  thing  ?  "  he 
asked  angrily,  in  a  voice  for  her  ear 
alone.  "  What  right  have  you  to  risk 
your  life  as  you  did  just  now?  " 

"  Because  I  love  my  cause,"  she  re 
torted  vehemently.  "  You  would  die  to 
149 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


save  your  flag,  —  why  not  I  for  mine  ? 
Go,  search  for  General  Lafonte;  you 
will  not  find  him." 

It  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  Champe  was 
correct  in  her  assertion,  for,  although 
Jack  and  his  troopers  went  carefully 
into  every  hole  and  cranny  of  the  old 
mansion,  the  Confederate  seemed  to 
have  vanished.  The  sentries  reported  a 
second  time  that  no  one  had  passed  the 
lines.  The  house  seemed  empty,  except 
for  a  half-dozen  negro  servants  vary 
ing  in  age  from  ten  to  sixty  years.  Only 
one  room  of  the  fifteen  through  which 
they  went  appeared  to  have  been  re 
cently  occupied,  and  that,  the  one  where 
the  sergeant  had  detected  signal  lights. 
The  ashes  of  a  wood  fire  on  the  hearth 
were  still  warm,  and  hidden  hastily 
under  a  pile  of  blankets  in  the  closet 
were  tools  used  to  tap  telegraph  wires. 
Evidently  the  information  furnished  by 
the  secret  service  had  been  correct; 
'5° 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

the  mansion  was  used  as  a  rendezvous 
for  spies  and  conspirators. 

Baffled  by  the  singular  escape  of  his 
important  prisoner,  Jack  finally  made 
his  way  back  to  the  room  where  he 
had  left  Champe.  The  sentry  stood 
motionless  at  the  open  door,  saluting 
as  his  officer  passed  in  and  closed  the 
door.  Involuntarily,  Jack  smiled  as  his 
eyes  fell  on  the  figure  in  the  armchair. 
With  her  head  pillowed  on  the  edge  of 
the  desk  near  which  she  sat  was  Champe, 
fast  asleep,  as  untroubled  as  if  in  her 
own  pretty  room  under  Aunt  Sue's 
hospitable  roof  in  Baltimore. 

Jack  looked  down  at  her  for  a  minute 
in  silence.  Then  he  opened  the  closet 
door,  and  taking  down  her  fur  cloak, 
laid  it  gently  across  her  lap.  His  men 
were  eating  a  hasty  meal  reluctantly 
furnished  them  by  Aunt  Judith  in  the 
kitchen,  and  he  had  ordered  the  horses 
fed  and  watered  before  starting  on  their 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


way.  He  knew  how  weary  Champe 
must  be,  for  he  surmised  that  she  had 
been  many  hours  in  the  saddle.  Why 
disturb  her  at  present?  So  he  threw 
himself  into  a  chair  and  watched  her  as 
she  slept.  How  fair  she  was,  —  how 
captivating,  —  with  her  soft  voice  and 
gracious  smile,  and  yet  how  daring 
and  recklessly  brave !  Would  any  other 
woman  sleep  so  tranquilly  in  a  house 
full  of  the  enemy's  soldiers,  herself  in 
danger  of  arrest  and  a  Northern  prison  ? 
She  was  "  the  rankest  rebel  of  all  Balti 
more."  How  the  words  haunted  him! 
Even  so,  she  had  saved  his  life  when 
in  dire  plight,  and  now  evil  fortune 
compelled  him  to  arrest  her.  Stay,  did 
it  so  compel  ?  And  as  he  reached  this 
point  in  thought,  Champe  stirred  in  her 
chair,  and  awoke. 

For  a  moment  her  hazel  eyes  were 
full  of  bewilderment;  then  she  caught 
Jack's  earnest  gaze,  and  remembered. 


Misadventures  of  a  Night 

"Did  you  find  him?"  she  asked,  with 
the  roguishly  defiant  glance  that  Jack 
had  been  dreaming  of. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?  "  he  said,  looking 
down  at  her  gravely.  "  There  is  some 
secret  hiding  place  in  the  mansion  I  am 
convinced.  I  am  also  certain  that  you 
will  not  divulge  it." 

"Do  you  meditate  razing  it  to  the 
ground  to  find  out,  after  true  Yankee 
fashion  ?  " 

His  eyes  blazed;  and,  to  her  after 
amazement,  Champe  involuntarily  fal 
tered,  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  that  was  un 
generous,"  and  rising,  impulsively  ex 
tended  her  hand. 

Jack  turned  pale  as  he  took  it  in  his 
and  held  it  firmly. 

"  What  are  you  made  of  ?  "  he  said 
passionately.  "  A  woman  like  you 
could  conquer  a  world!  Will  you  give 
me  your  word  of  honor  to  quit  this  wild 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


work,  and  let  me  send  you  on  your  way  ? 
I,  of  course,  remain  here —  Good 
God !  —  the  enemy  I  " 

With  a  flying  leap  Jack  and  the  sentry 
at  the  door  cleared  the  stairs  together. 
In  the  hall  below  blue  and  gray  coated 
men  were  struggling  for  mastery,  and 
shots  fast  and  furious  from  outside  told 
the  story.  Champe  rushed  to  the  win 
dow  and  threw  it  open.  In  the  pale 
light  of  dawn  she  could  distinguish  the 
faces  of  the  gray  troopers,  and  she  knew 
them  well.  They  were  the  men  she  had 
come  to  meet,  Mosby's  command,  and 
there,  in  hand-to-hand  conflict  with 
Jack,  was  the  wiry  form  of  the  South's 
most  famous  guerrilla  chief, — John 
Mosby. 


Chapter  VIII 

Petit  Jean  Gossips 

IN  a  little  house  on  Linden  Avenue 
Therese  Trudeau  was  busy  in  her 
kitchen.  The  amount  of  fuel  necessary 
to  heat  her  small  stove  had  seemed  a 
terrible  waste  to  her  frugal  French 
mind,  and  she  was  using,  instead,  a 
brazier  with  a  handful  of  coals,  having 
secured  that  somewhat  obsolete  article 
at  a  junk  shop.  She  was  preparing  din 
ner,  and  \hepot-au-feu  contained  some 
thing  savory,  for  the  most  appetizing 
odor  arose  from  it  as  Therese  drew  out 
a  table  from  the  corner,  and  proceeded 
to  lay  the  cloth,  talking  softly  to  herself, 
after  the  fashion  of  those  who  live  much 
alone. 

"  Petit  Jean  is  late.    This  is  the  third 
time  in  two  days  that  I  wait,  for  what 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


use  to  let  the  food  spoil  by  taking  it  off 
the  fire.  Worse  still,  to  cook  it  too  long. 
I  wonder  what  his  absence  signifies? 
I  am,  myself,  disturbed.  We  hear  no 
thing  yet  from  that  country  below.  Ma 
dame  sent  my  last  news  to  the  Bureau 
in  Washington,  and  by  this  M'sieu  le 
General  will  be  caught  in  the  net  of 
those  who  fish  for  him.  Sacre!  that  I 
should  have  to  work  for  these  pigs  of 
Yankees !  But  yes,  it  is  all  for  her,  mon 
cceur,  my  foster  child;  and  to  avenge 
her  wrongs  Therese  will  give  her  life. 
Ah,  he  conies  at  last!  "  and  placing  her 
cup  and  saucer  carefully  on  the  table, 
The'rese  went  to  the  back  door  of  the 
kitchen  and  unlatched  it. 

"Well  arrived,  lazy  one,"  she  said; 
"  come,  eat,  or  the  dinner  is  spoiled." 

Petit  Jean  was  not  a  small  boy,  as 

his  name  would  indicate,  but  a  man  of 

middle  age,  under  size,  but  of  rather 

sturdy  build,  with  shrewd  face  and  a 

156 


Petit  yean  Gossips 


pair  of  keen,  dark  eyes.  His  eyebrows 
were  bushy,  and  he  wore  a  short  beard, 
carefully  trimmed.  His  corduroy  suit 
was  clean,  but  patched  in  several  places, 
and  on  his  head  was  a  green  peaked 
cap  with  ear-flaps  pulled  down  and  fas 
tened  under  his  chin. 

"Tais-toi,  Tante  Thdrese,"  he  said 
good-naturedly,  removing  his  cap,  and 
pulling  up  a  chair,  while  she  set  the 
smoking  food  before  him.  "  I  have  been 
hard  at  work  as  always.  Listen,  I  will 
tell  you  while  we  eat." 

The'rese  seated  herself  beside  him, 
and,  helping  him  liberally  to  the  stew 
of  rice  and  chili-peppers,  fixed  her 
beadlike  eyes  on  his  face  as  he  con 
tinued  :  — 

"  I  have  been  helping  Pieter  in  Ma- 
dame's  stable  this  morning.  There  was 
much  to  do,  as  Mam'selle  came  back 
from  an  early  ride  before  breakfast,  and 
needed  the  horses  again  this  afternoon. 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


And  the  new  black  man  and  I  became 
quite  friends  while  washing  and  rubbing 
down  the  beasts." 

"  Oh !  the  groom  who  rides  with 
Mam'selle.  Well?" 

"Yes.  Scip, they  call  him,  also* con 
traband' —  of  which,  recollect,  we  had 
many  in  the  days  of  Beast  Butler,  la 
bas,  in  New  Orleans.  And,  behold,  he 
comes  from  Baton  Rouge  and  the  old 
plantation  we  know  of." 

"  Petit  Jean,  thou  art  sure  he  is  not 
lying?" 

"What  cause  for  lies  to  me?  No, 
Tante  The'rese,  he  is  one  of  the  Lafonte 
slaves.  You  see,  he  heard  me  talking 
with  Pieter  (and  queer  work  do  Pieter 
and  I  make  of  it,  at  times;  he  with  his 
Dutch-French,  and  I  with  my  French- 
English,  but  we  understand  each  other, 
oh,  yes),  and  he,  the  negro,  is  quick, 
and  knows  enough  of  our  language  to 
try  and  overhear  what  Pieter  and  I  were 
158 


Petit  Jean  Gossips 


saying.  He  was  in  the  stall  next  us, and 
once  I  heard  him  laugh,  and,  to  confirm 
my  suspicions,  by  and  by  I  came  and 
was  friendly  with  him,  and  drew  him 
into  talk.  He  was  afraid  at  first,  but 
presently,  when  I  spoke  in  praise  of  the 
Proclamation  (which  is  to  these  negroes 
as  if  it  were  the  sacred  Bible) ,  he  began 
to  speak  more  freely,  and  said  he  had 
come  up  from  Louisiana  with  his  mas 
ter,  a  rebel  officer,  and  then  worked  his 
way  one  night  into  the  enemy's  lines  to 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  He  slipped 
once  in  his  talk,  and  —  what  do  you  sup 
pose,  Tante  The'rese  —  he  got  out  the 
name  before  he  thought  —  Laf onte !  " 
"  Thou  didst  not  betray  surprise  ?  " 
"  Am  I  a  child  ?  No.  But  after  much 
sympathy  and  parade  of  love  for  the 
brave  Yankees  on  my  part,  the  negro 
confided  that  he  had  seen  his  master 
not  long  ago  —  here." 

"  Here,    in    Baltimore,    Petit  Jean  ? 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


Where,  then,  are  our  spies  that  no  re 
port  was  brought  to  me  ?  Who  has  dared 
to  be  false  to  our  oath  ?  " 

"  Doucement,  chere  tante;  I  have 
made  a  discovery.  You  know  we  have 
never  been  able  to  detect  who  the  per 
sons  are  in  the  city  through  whose  aid 
many  rebel  officers  steal  across  the  lines 
into  Maryland.  We  knew  these  were 
some  high-up  people, —  grand  folks,  in 
short.  Well,  I  have  found  one  of  these. 
I  do  not  speak  it  well,  but  it  is  the  house 
where  Mam'selle  rides  so  often  with  the 
young  man  who  is  always  at  her  side." 
"  I  know,  I  know,  M'sieu  Teelman  " — 
"Yes,  that  is  the  name.  But  the 
house,  Tante  The'rese,  —  it  is  too  hard 
for  me.  You  will  find  out  its  name 
from  Madame,  perhaps.  The  General 
Lafonte  was  there;  the  negro  says  he 
saw  him  jump  out  of  the  window,  and 
hide  in  the  hedge,  one  day  when  ManV- 
selle  was  making  a  call." 
160 


Petit  yean  Gossips 


"And  did  he,  the  negro,  report  it?" 

"  He  was  too  frightened;  he  thought 
at  first  that  perhaps  his  master  had  come 
to  carry  him  back,  but  when  his  wits  re 
turned,  and  he  remembered  that  blessed 
Proclamation,  he  decided  he  was  in  no 
danger,  and,  so  far,  has  told  no  one. 
You  can  see,  however,  that  we  have 
friends  in  that  house ;  it  may  be  useful." 

"  More  useful  than  you  know,"  mut 
tered  the  old  Creole.  "  Petit  Jean,  you 
must  take  a  message  to  Madame  at 
once." 

"I  am  ready,"  responded  the  man, 
pushing  back  his  chair.  "  But  we  can 
not  reach  her  at  this  hour." 

Tante  Therese  disappeared  for  a  min 
ute,  and  Petit  Jean  took  that  opportu 
nity  to  wash  his  hands  at  the  sink.  As 
he  was  searching  the  dresser  for  a  towel, 
she  returned  from  the  other  room  with 
a  sheet  of  note  paper  in  her  hand.  On 
it  she  had  scrawled  two  small  crosses 
161 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


in  red  ink.  This  she  put  into  an  en 
velope  which  looked  strangely  out  of 
place,  for  it  bore  a  blue  and  gold  mono 
gram,  and  was  addressed  in  beautiful, 
flowing  handwriting  (Mrs.  Vansittart's 
own),  and  might,  from  its  outward  ap 
pearance,  be  an  invitation  to  dinner. 

"  Give  this  to  Stephanie,  Petit  Jean. 
She  has  her  directions  how  to  deliver 
it.  And  do  thou  return  to  me  quickly; 
I  have  other  work  for  thee  before  night 
fall." 

Petit  Jean  took  the  note,  placed  it 
carefully  inside  his  cap,  as  before,  and 
obediently  left  the  house. 

During  the  month  which  followed  his 
return  to  Baltimore,  Fitzhugh  Tilghman 
had  made  two  discoveries  which  ap 
peared  to  him  of  vital  importance.  The 
first  was  that  Cecile  Vansittart  was  a 
charming  girl;  the  second,  that  he  was 
madly  in  love  with  her.  Many  a  love 
162 


Petit  Jean  Gossips 


affair,  off  and  on,  had  had  Fitz  for  its 
hero;  but  they  were  light  and  evanes 
cent  as  the  wind,  and  as  he  had  always 
played  the  game  fairly,  he  felt  he  had 
no  burden  on  his  conscience  because  of 
them.  But  now,  "  the  light  that  never 
was,  on  sea  or  land  "  had  thrown  its 
glamour  around  him,  and  with  all  the 
ardor  of  his  warm,  impulsive  nature  the 
young  Southerner  determined  to  woo 
and  win  her. 

The  wooing  had  been  after  his  own 
fashion.  It  amused  Cecile  at  first  to 
have  flowers,  music,  invitations  for  co 
tillions,  and  riding  parties  planned  in 
her  honor,  showered  upon  her;  to  see 
a  pair  of  dark  eyes  looking  wistfully 
into  hers,  to  hear  a  musical  voice  soften 
when  it  spoke  her  name.  With  the  shy 
reticence  which  her  foreign  education 
had  fostered,  she  looked  upon  these  at 
tentions  as  simply  good  manners  com 
bined  with  a  desire  to  make  her  feel 
163 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


thoroughly  at  home  in  her  new  sur 
roundings.  But  of  late  there  had  come 
a  subtle  change  which  Fitz  was  keen 
to  notice.  No  more,  perhaps,  than  a 
little  blush  at  meeting,  a  lingering  of 
her  hand  in  his  when  parting,  or  a  pretty 
excuse  to  keep  him  at  her  side,  —  only 
these,  but  enough  for  romance,  enough 
for  Love's  young  dream! 

Cecile  had  promised  to  join  a  riding 
party  given  by  the  Lovells,  but  her 
favorite  horse  cast  a  shoe  as  Scip  was 
bringing  him  to  the  door,  so  that,  much 
to  her  disappointment,  she  had  been 
obliged  to  dispatch  the  groom  with  her 
explanation  and  regrets.  She  stood  on 
the  steps  with  a  decidedly  mournful 
countenance  as  she  watched  Scip  lead 
the  horses  away;  but  as  she  was  about 
to  turn  into  the  house  a  dashing  rider 
spurred  around  the  corner  of  the  square, 
and  Fitz  flung  himself  from  the  saddle 
at  her  door. 

164 


Petit  Jean  Gossips 


"  We  feared  you  were  not  coming," 
said  he,  giving  his  rein  to  a  small  darky 
who  was  lounging  conveniently  at  hand 
near  the  curb.  "  Keep  that  horse  there, 
boy,  and  don't  pull  too  hard  on  the  bit, 
d'  ye  hear  ?  "  Then,  mounting  the  steps, 
—  "I  met  Scip  and  the  horses, and  sent 
my  excuses  by  him  to  Miss  Joan.  I 
wanted  so  much  to  see  you.  May  I 
come  in  ?  " 

Cecile  wondered  whether  mamma 
would  quite  approve  of  a  visit  unchap- 
eroned;  but  then  Joan  Lovell,  and  Rose 
Murray,  and  the  other  girls  whom  she 
knew,  frequently  received  men  alone. 
It  was  very  pleasant,  this  American 
fashion,  and  perhaps  she  might  dare,  — 
this  once.  So,  with  a  rather  guilty  throb 
of  her  heart,  Cecile  led  the  way  to  the 
drawing-room,  thereby  rushing  upon 
her  fate  as  Andre  opened  the  door. 

The  drawing-room  was  a  somewhat 
stately  apartment,  full  of  treasures  in 
165 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  way  of  carved  chairs,  wonderful 
cabinets,  and  old  tapestry.  It  would 
have  been  the  delight  of  a  connoisseur, 
but  as  Fitz  followed  Cecile  he  found 
himself  devoutly  wishing  for  a  cosy 
nook,  just  large  enough  for  two,  instead 
of  all  this  magnificence.  He  felt  certain 
that  she  would  establish  her  small  per 
son  in  one  of  those  huge  chairs  where 
she  would  be  nearly  lost  to  sight,  and 
expect  him  to  sit  decorously  and  sol 
emnly  opposite  her  in  another.  The 
humor  of  the  surroundings  in  contrast 
to  his  purpose  struck  him,  ardent  lover 
that  he  was,  and  he  bit  his  lip  to  con 
ceal  a  smile  as  he  said,  boyishly, — 

"  Can't  we  sit  in  the  library  ?  I 
have  n't  my  '  company  manners  '  with 
me  this  afternoon,  and  nothing  less  suits 
this  Old  World  atmosphere."  And  then 
he  stood  still,  half-fearing  he  had  been 
too  audacious  with  this  convent-bred 
maid. 

166 


Petit  yean  Gossips 


Cecile,  who  was  in  advance  of  him, 
gave  a  gay  little  laugh. 

"  I  thought  you  had  lived  long  enough 
in  the  Old  World  to  have  absorbed  it. 
The  library,  of  course,  if  you  prefer  — 
Oh,  Mr.  Tilghman,  please,  please  give 
me  that! "  —  in  a  tone  of  abject  entreaty, 
as  Fitz  stepped  forward  quickly  and 
lifted  from  the  polished  wax  floor, 
where  she  had  dropped  it,  a  man's  rid 
ing  gauntlet,  which  he  instantly  recog 
nized  as  one  of  his  own. 

"  You  left  it  last  week  on  the  table," 
stammered  Cecile,  now  a  picture  of 
confusion  and  pink  blushes  that  stole 
down  even  to  her  pretty  throat,  "  and 
I  put  it  in  my  pocket,  here,"  —  touching 
the  breast  of  her  habit,  —  "  and  I  must 
have  just  pulled  it  out  with  my  hand 
kerchief —  Oh,  Mr.  Tilghman,  what 
do  you  —  what  can  you  think  of  me?" 
and  she  lifted  her  artless  eyes  to  his  as 
she  tried  to  seize  the  telltale  glove. 
167 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  It 's  what  you  think  of  me  that  con 
cerns  me  most,"  said  Fitz,  as  he  boldly 
took  possession  of  both  hand  and  gaunt 
let.  "We  won't  mention  'Mr.  Tilgh- 
man,'  but  you  may  say  anything  you 
choose  to  Fitz.  Don't  you  know,  you 
little  darling,  that  I  adore  you,  and  I 
want  you  for  my  very  own  ?  " 

And  then  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  a 
singular  transformation  took  place;  the 
walls  of  the  room  he  had  thought  so 
forbidding  stretched  out  and  faded 
away,  and  he  saw  only  the  sweet,  smil 
ing  face  of  the  girl  he  loved  as  he  and 
she  entered  their  earthly  Paradise. 


Chapter  IX 

From  the  War  Office 

"AND  so  my  Cecile  really  wishes  to 
leave  me  ?  What  shall  I  say  to  this  new, 
strange  man  who  audaciously  desires 
to  carry  her  away  ?  " 

Mrs.  Vansittart's  usually  tranquil 
voice  had  an  undertone  of  emotion  at 
variance  with  her  playful  words,  and 
Cecile,  quick  to  detect  the  change, 
threw  her  arms  around  her  mother's 
neck. 

"  Have  mercy  on  my  laces,"  said  the 
lafter,  smiling.  "What  would  Vrouw 
Van  Der  Boch  say  to  such  a  display  of 
irregulated  excitement?" 

"Vrouw  Van  Der  Boch  is  in  Amster 
dam,  praised  be  heaven,  and  my  dear, 
beautiful  mother  knows  that  the  air  of 
America  has  bewitched  me." 
169 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  The  air  of  America  has  much  to 
answer  for.  Is  that  what  you  said  to 
Fitz  Tilghman  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  what  I  said,"  — 
Cecile  blushed  rosily.  "Was  it  very 
dreadful  that  he  spoke  to  me  first  ?  " 

"  Very;  the  proper  Amsterdam  fash 
ion  would  have  been  quite  different." 

"  I  *m  afraid  we  were  both  in  the 
wrong,"  sighed  Cecile  penitently.  "  Fitz 
told  me  he  knew  he  ought  to  be  sitting 
on  one  of  those  big  carved  chairs  ask 
ing  you  for  the  honor  of  my  hand  in 
marriage;  but  that  sounds  so  stilted 
and  awful,  —  much  worse  than  in  our 
own  language." 

"The  air  of  America  again,  Cecile! 
If  you  cannot  remember  what  you  said 
to  Fitz,  perhaps  you  will  tell  me  what 
Fitz  said  to  you  ?  " 

"I  —  I  —  don't  just  know  how  it 
happened,"  said  Cecile,  shyness  over 
taking  her,  but  so  accustomed  to  obey 
170 


From  the  W^ar  Office 

her  mother's  smallest  request  that  she 
was  nerving  herself  to  repeat  the  little 
scene  wherein  the  gauntlet  figured.  "  It 
was  all  my  fault,  for  the  glove  fell  out 
on  the  floor  —  and  I  don't  know  in  the 
least  how  it  ever  got  there,  I  had  hidden 
it  so  carefully  —  it  was  Fitz's  glove,  you 
know  —  and  I  was  so  dreadfully  fright 
ened  — and  "  —  She  paused,  breathless 
and  confused,  as  her  mother  interrupted 
her  with  a  laugh, —a  laugh  so  full  of 
genuine  merriment  and  sympathetic 
feeling  that  it  startled  Cecile,  whose 
wondering  eyes  recalled  Mrs.  Vansittart 
to  the  cold  repression  of  her  ordinary 
manner.  For  one  brief  instant  a  mem 
ory  of  her  own  girlhood  had  responded 
to  the  touch  of  Love,  the  Enchanter, 
only  to  die  again  as  the  tragedy  of  her 
life  rose  like  a  gaunt  spectre  before 
her. 

"  Never  mind,"  she  said  gently.    "  It 
was  hardly  fair  to  ask,  and  I  did  not 
171 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


mean  to  tease  you.  Keep  those  blushes 
for  your  lover." 

"But  you  don't  object,  —  you  will 
not  refuse  him  ?  "  cried  Cecile.  "  Indeed, 
indeed,  I  love  him  dearly." 

Mrs.  Vansittart  surveyed  her  for  a 
moment  in  silence.  Then  she  .said 
gravely,— 

"  Have  I  ever  denied  you  anything? 
Be  happy,  dear,  for  life  lies  all  at  your 
feet.  Send  Fitz  to  me  when  he  comes; 
I  liked  him  from  the  first.  If  I  had  not, 
do  you  think  I  would  have  permitted 
him  to  wile  your  heart  away  ?  " 

After  Cecile  left  her,  Mrs.  Vansittart 
went  to  her  desk  and,  opening  a  private 
drawer  in  it,  took  out  a  telegram,  which 
she  read  carefully  twice. 

"  Strange,"  she  thought,  as  she 
smoothed  the  yellow  paper;  "it  does 
not  seem  as  if  I  could  fail  this  time ! " 

She  glanced  at  the  silver  clock  on 
the  mantel,  then  moved  across  the  room 
172 


From  the  W^ar  Office 

to  touch  the  bell,  but  as  she  did  so 
Stephanie  entered  with  a  tray  on  which 
lay  a  card  and  an  envelope  with  a  blue 
and  gold  monogram.  Mrs.  Vansittart 
took  up  the  card. 

"Is  the  bearer  below?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  Madame;  the  gentleman  was 
shown  into  the  library." 

"Very  well;  say  I  am  coming  down." 

As  Stephanie  left  the  room  Mrs.  Van 
sittart  tore  open  the  note.  Her  eyes  lit 
as  she  saw  the  red  crosses  made  by 
Therese. 

" News  —  and  of  him"  she  thought 
breathlessly.  Then  she  threw  the  paper 
in  the  grate  fire  and  went  downstairs. 

In  the  library  she  found  a  quiet, 
sober-looking  man  in  civilian's  dress, 
but  with  an  indefinable  something  in 
his  appearance  which  suggested  mili 
tary  training. 

"  Is  this  Mrs.  Vansittart  ?  "  he  asked, 
bowing  politely,  as  she  motioned  him 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


to  a  chair.  "  I  have  brought  an  answer 
to  your  letter  to  the  Secretary.  We 
have  to  guard  all  news  of  movements 
in  the  Valley  with  more  than  ordinary 
caution  just  now,  and  it  was  deemed 
inexpedient  to  write  a  reply." 

"  I  am  much  indebted  to  the  Secre 
tary,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  naturally 
anxious  to  hear  tidings  of  my  kinsman, 
as  it  is  now  a  week  since  a  rumor  of 
his  capture  reached  me." 

"Captain  Phillipse,  in  pursuance  of 
information  received  from  trustworthy 
sources,  had  gone  to  the  Peyton  plan 
tation,  which,  although  deserted  by  its 
owner,  we  suppose  to  be  a  rendezvous 
for  rebel  spies.  From  a  trooper  of  his 
squad,  who  managed  to  escape  by  the 
ravine  near  the  house,  and  who  reached 
our  lines  at  Winchester,  we  learn  that 
Captain  Phillipse,  after  making  prisoner 
General  Lafonte  and  a  young  woman 
who  was  also  in  the  house,  was,  with 


From  the  W"ar  Office 

his  escort,  surprised  and  taken  prisoner 
by  Colonel  Mosby,  the  guerrilla,  and  is 
probably  still  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
The  Secretary  desired  me  to  add  that 
there  will  be  an  exchange  of  prisoners 
next  month,  and  that  he  will  make  every 
effort  to  have  Captain  Phillipse's  name 
upon  the  list  so  soon  as  we  ascertain  to 
what  prison  he  has  been  consigned." 

A  question  sprang  to  Evelyn  Vansit- 
tart's  lips,  but  she  did  not  deem  it  pru 
dent  to  ask  it.  Instead,  she  said,  — 

"Thank  the  Secretary  for  his  very 
great  kindness.  I  hope  to  do  so  in  per 
son  soon.  Are  you,  may  I  ask,  a  mem 
ber  of  the  secret  service  of  which  you 
spoke  ?  " 

"  My  name,"  said  her  visitor  gravely, 
"  is  Bennett,  and  I  am  detailed  from  my 
regiment  for  special  service  in  the  War 
Department  in  cases  where  certain 
knowledge  of  military  matters  is  im 
perative.  My  orders  come  directly  from 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


headquarters,  and  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  regular  organized  force  you 
refer  to.  The  Secretary  asked  me  to 
mention  this  to  you;  he  wished  you 
to  know  that  I  am  to  be  trusted." 

Accustomed  though  he  was  to  read 
ing  faces,  the  keen,  penetrating  gaze  that 
this  dainty  woman  of  the  world  fixed 
upon  him  almost  startled  the  soldier. 

"  I  desire  proof,"  she  said  barely 
above  her  breath. 

"Is  this  sufficient?"  he  answered, 
throwing  back  the  lapel  of  his  coat  and 
displaying  a  tiny  Maltese  cross  in  white 
enamel  carefully  hidden  under  it. 

"The  number?"  she  queried  briefly. 

"  Seventeen." 

Evelyn  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and 
smiled. 

"  The  information  in  regard  to  the 
Peyton  plantation  and  its  possible  in 
mates  came  through  my  agents,"  she  said. 

The  soldier  sprang  to  his  feet. 
176 


From  the  W^ar  Office 

"  Then,  madam,  you  are  "  — 

"  Hush !  "  she  raised  her  white  hand 
imperatively.  "  Such  knowledge  as  you 
have  just  gained  you  will  keep  inviolate. 
Not  even  to  the  Secretary  can  you  di 
vulge  it.  General  Lafonte  appears  to 
have  escaped;  do  you  know  anything 
further  of  him  ?  " 

"Nothing,  madam." 

"  When  were  you  ordered  to  return 
to  Washington  ?  " 

"  By  nightfall." 

"  Then  there  will  be  time  for  you  to 
go  to  this  address." 

She  wrote  on  a  tablet  the  number  of 
the  Creole's  house  on  Linden  Avenue 
and  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Be  there  at  three  o'clock.  Show 
your  badge  to  the  old  French  woman 
who  will  open  the  door.  She  will  give 
you  what  information  I  desire  to  send 
to  Washington.  That  is  all.  Good- 


morning." 


177 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


Half  an  hour  later  the  Vansittart  car 
riage  drew  up  in  front  of  the  little  house 
occupied  by  Tante  The'rese,  and  Eve 
lyn,  followed  by  her  footman  carrying 
a  hamper  filled  with  nicely  tied  parcels, 
mounted  the  steps.  It  was  generally 
known  in  the  neighborhood  that  the 
old  Creole  was  frequently  the  recipient 
of  kindness  and  assistance  from  the  lady 
who  came  to  visit  her,  and  these  gifts 
were  attributed  to  her  visitor's  philan 
thropy  and  benevolence.  All  of  which 
proved  an  admirable  cloak  for  the  real 
motive  of  her  benefactress,  and  pre 
vented  suspicion  in  case  of  prying  or 
inquisitive  persons. 

In  a  few  words  The'rese  told  the  story 
which  Petit  Jean  had  related,  pouring 
out  maledictions  on  the  heads  of  those 
who  had  permitted  so  important  an  oc 
currence  to  pass  unsuspected. 

"  But  it  shall  not  happen  again,"  she 
cried;  "though  I  trust  the  fox  was 
178 


From  the  W^ar  Office 

caught  in  the  old  mansion  where  we 
heard  he  had  taken  refuge.  Has  Ma 
dame  had  news  to-day  ?  " 

"The  worst,"  said  Evelyn  bitterly. 
"  He  has  again  escaped.  But  sooner  or 
later  he  will  come  across  the  lines  and 
enter  Baltimore." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  Is  there  any 
other  reason  known  to  you  for  his  com 
ing  than  his  desire  to  obtain  aid  and 
information  for  the  Southern  cause  ?  " 

"  Listen,  Tante  Therese,  and  betray 
the  confidence  to  no  one.  He  will  re 
turn,  because  the  woman  he  comes  to 
see  at  Dalkeith  House  is  his  sister." 

Therese  gave  a  gasp  of  dismay. 

"  But  you,  mon  coeur,  what  danger, 
what  peril !  Surely  you  are  mad  to  ven 
ture  to  remain  in  the  city." 

Evelyn  shook  her  head  with  a  cold 
smile. 

"  I  am  in  no  danger.  She,  Mrs.  Pe- 
gram,  is  the  eldest  of  the  family;  Gas- 
179 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


pard,  the  youngest  She  never  saw  me 
in  the  old  days.  When  we  were  in  New 
Orleans  she  was  married  and  living  here. 
There  is  nothing  whatever  in  her  mind 
which  connects  me  with  her  brother.  I 
took  the  chance  of  his  silence.  A  cow 
ard  will  keep  his  own  secrets.  I  went 
boldly  to  see  her  after  my  arrival  here. 
She  was  necessary  to  me,  and  I  pre 
ferred  to  be  upon  such  terms  that  I 
could  watch  her  without  suspicion.  My 
mother  had  visited  her  family  at  the 
Baton  Rouge  plantation,  and  it  was  all 
easy  of  accomplishment.  Who  would 
think  of  looking  behind  my  record  ?  My 
marriage,  my  brilliant  life  in  Amster 
dam  and  Paris,  my  large  means,  my 
cordial  hospitality,  —  do  you  think  my 
beauty  and  finesse  cannot  carry  me 
through?  Bah,  Tante  Therese;  have 
you  forgotten  that  what  your  foster- 
child  wills  she  obtains?" 

The  pride,  the  arrogance  of  her  air 
180 


From  the  W^ar  Office 

and  words  carried  conviction  to  the  soul 
of  her  listener.  Full  well  did  The'rese 
remember  the  indomitable  will  which 
had  moulded  even  adverse  fortune  and 
used  it  for  her  own  ends  all  these  years. 
She  seized  Evelyn's  hand  and  kissed  it 
with  passionate  affection. 

"  Yes,  heart  of  my  heart,  you  have 
reason;  but  for  one  moment  I  was 
alarmed.  Forgive  me,"  she  begged 
humbly. 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which 
Therese  bustled  about  the  room  un 
packing  the  hamper  and  carefully  put 
ting  away  its  contents,  part  of  which 
she  carried  into  the  kitchen.  When 
she  returned  she  found  Evelyn  bending 
over  a  small  table  on  which  she  laid  a 
sheet  of  paper. 

"  There  will  be  a  messenger  here  in 
half  an  hour  to  Whom  you  will  tell  the 
story  of  General  Lafonte's  visit  to  Bal 
timore;  suppress  all  that  refers  to  any 
181 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


connection  with  me.  He  will  cooper 
ate  with  you  in  regard  to  the  espio 
nage  to  be  maintained  over  Dalkeith 
House.  I  have  written  the  names  and 
locality,  with  full  directions,  here,  for 
him." 

The'rese  took  the  paper,  folding  it 
carefully,  and  slipped  it  inside  the  reti 
cule  which  hung  at  her  side. 

"  How  soon  can  you  communicate 
with  the  Peyton  plantation  ?  " 

"Oh,  but  that  is  easy;  our  'under 
ground  '  route  is  safe  and  sure." 

Evelyn  drew  a  letter  from  her  bo 
som. 

"  Then  this  must  go  at  once.  Be 
certain  that  it  falls  into  no  other  hands 
than  his." 

"  If  M'sieu  le  General  be  still  in  the 
Valley  it  will  not  fail  to  reach  him 
quickly.  If  he  be  gone  to  Richmond  it 
will  be  harder  and  longer." 

"  Do  your  utmost,  Tante  The'rese ; 
182 


From  the  War  Office 

but  exercise  great  caution.   Adieu  for 
to-day." 

She  gathered  her  furs  about  her 
stately  figure  as  she  swept  out  to  her 
carriage.  The  waiting  horses  champed 
at  their  bits  and  tossed  their  heads  as 
they  were  driven  rapidly  away.  But 
the  woman  sank  back  upon  the  cush 
ioned  seat  with  her  hand  on  her  heart, 
striving  vainly  to  repress  the  agony 
which  her  memory  of  the  past  had 
awakened. 


Chapter  X 

By  Woman's  Wit 

"THIS  is  the  best  plan  that  suggests 
itself  to  me,  Miss  Randolph.  It  will 
hardly  be  possible  to  cross  to-day,  and 
the  nearest  and  safest  place  to  bivouac 
is  the  Thorntons'  old  house  just  below. 
I  shall  send  the  men  and  prisoners 
ahead,  except  my  escort  and  Captain 
Phillipse,  and  meet  them  at  Manassas 
Gap,  where  we  cross  the  mountains  day 
after  to-morrow.  You  will  find  it  better 
to  wait  with  me  at  the  Thorntons,  as  a 
long  ride  in  this  cold  weather  might  be 
too  much  for  your  strength." 

"Then  I  think  I  will  return  to  the 
plantation  for  the  night,  and  join  you 
there  to-morrow.  Peyton  is  somewhere 
in  the  vicinity,  and  it  is  necessary  for 
me  to  see  him  before  going  to  Rich- 
184 


By  Woman  s 


mond.  He  was  to  meet  me  last  night, 
but  failed  to  appear.  In  the  mean  time, 
before  I  leave  you,  Colonel  Mosby," 
Champe's  roguish  smile  danced  in  her 
eyes,  —  "have  I  your  permission  to  say 
good-by  to  my  prisoner?  " 

They  were  standing  on  the  bank  of 
the  Shenandoah  River.  Mosby,  mount 
ed  on  a  splendid  gray  horse,  wore  the 
complete  uniform  of  a  Confederate 
colonel,  surmounted  by  the  inevitable 
gray  slouched  hat  of  the  Southern  sol 
dier;  Champe,  in  her  green  habit,  was 
riding  the  sorrel  mare.  Before  them 
lay  the  ford  known  as  Berry's  Ferry, 
and  behind  them  sat  the  mounted  troop 
ers  of  Mosby's  command.  In  the  centre, 
carefully  guarded,  were  the  little  squad 
of  captured  Federal  soldiers,  and  be 
yond,  between  two  armed  men,  rode 
Jack  Phillipse.  The  river,  partially 
frozen  over,  was  impassable  for  the  flat- 
bottomed  bateaux  anchored  at  the  ford, 
185 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


and  as  the  ice  was  not  sufficiently  strong 
to  allow  the  men  and  horses  to  cross  on 
it,  Mosby  was  compelled  to  change  his 
plans  to  suit  the  emergency. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  desire  to.  Take 
care,  Miss  Randolph,  or  your  beaux 
yeux  will  do  the  poor  fellow  more 
harm  than  our  bullets.  I  can  picture 
how  you  were  able  to  detain  him  until 
my  arrival  last  night." 

Privately,  Champe  did  not  think  he 
could,  remembering  her  very  apropos 
nap;  but  she  did  not  feel  compelled  to 
enlighten  him  as  she  rode  back  to  where 
Jack  was  standing.  As  she  reached  his 
side,  the  horse  ridden  by  the  trooper 
on  his  left  (bearing  the  familiar  "U.  S." 
on  his  flank)  bolted  suddenly,  and  his 
comrade  seeing  that  the  prisoner  was 
sufficiently  guarded  by  the  surrounding 
troopers, turned  to  his  assistance;  there 
fore  being  out  of  earshot  for  the  moment, 
Champe  improved  her  opportunity. 
1 86 


By  Woman  s  Wit 


"  Listen  carefully,"  she  said  softly,  as 
Jack  lifted  his  cap  in  salutation.  "  You 
stay  to-night  at  a  house  near  here.  A 
veranda  runs  around  it,  and  a  large 
tree  overhangs  its  roof.  An  agile  man 
could  reach  the  ground  from  the  room 
above  by  its  branches." 

The  trooper  was  nearing  them  again, 
and  she  spoke  barely  above  her  breath, 
leaning  forward  in  her  saddle  as  the 
mare  swerved  a  little  in  quick  obedi 
ence  to  her  pressure  on  the  rein. 

"  A  death's-head  cipher  escaped  you 
once,  —  this  time  be  more  vigilant! 
Corporal,"  to  the  trooper  now  along 
side,  "Captain  Phillipse  has  dropped 
his  cigarette  case ;  pick  it  up." 

And  to  Jack's  unspeakable  amaze 
ment  she  pointed  with  her  whip  to  the 
ground,  where  a  small  object  that  he 
recognized  instantly  lay  half-buried  in 
the  slush  where  she  had  skillfully 
thrown  it. 

187 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  I  Jm  going  to  say  good-by,"  she  said, 
extending  her  hand  frankly  as  Jack 
thrust  the  case  into  his  nearest  pocket. 
"  I  go  back  to  the  plantation  to-night. 
Have  you  any  message  for  Peyton  ?  " 

"  My  hearty  thanks,"  said  her  be 
wildered  victim,  retaining  enough  pre 
sence  of  mind  to  clasp  her  hand  eagerly 
in  his,  but  quick  to  comprehend  that 
her  mention  of  her  brother  conveyed 
warning.  Champe  wheeled  her  horse 
and  rode  rapidly  away,  while  Jack, 
prudently  restraining  his  impulse  to 
watch  the  graceful  figure  out  of  sight, 
obeyed  the  order  to  put  his  horse  in 
motion,  and  continued  up  the  road 
guarded  as  before. 

As  he  rode  along  his  thoughts  were 
busy  trying  to  solve  a  problem  as  old 
as  Time  itself,  —  the  caprices  of  a 
woman.  What  did  she  mean,  —  this 
girl  whose  moods  were  as  changeable 
as  the  wind,  and  who,  disguised  as  a 
1 88 


By  If^oman  s 


boy,  had  braved  him  so  successfully? 
He  put  his  hand  against  the  cigarette 
case  hidden  in  his  pocket,  and  smiled 
involuntarily  as  he  recollected  how 
cleverly  she  had  tricked  him  at  Conrad's 
Ferry,  and  his  irritation  at  being  baffled. 
What  a  dullard  he  had  been  not  to 
recognize  those  dancing,  mischievous 
eyes  when  she  taunted  him  last  night! 
What  could  be  her  reason  for  giving 
him  the  case,  and  what  were  its  real  con 
tents?  He  had  been  carefully  searched 
by  Mosby's  men  upon  his  capture,  and 
as  there  was  nothing  to  arouse  suspi 
cion  in  the  trooper  who,  obedient  to 
Champe's  command,  had  picked  it  up, 
he  would  be  able  to  retain  it  until  he 
had  penetrated  its  secret. 

The  Thornton  house,  to  which  Mosby 
was  making  his  way,  proved  to  be  a 
rather  better  preserved  habitation  than 
most  of  those  left  in  the  Valley.  It  was 
occupied  by  two  elderly  women,  sisters, 
189 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


and  four  servants,  all  that  were  left  of 
many  slaves.  The  old  ladies  had  a  ter 
rible  fright  when  the  troop  rode  through 
their  gates,  imagining  the  intruders  to 
be  Yankees;  but  being  reassured  by 
the  slouched  hats  and  gray  uniforms, 
they  came  timidly  out  on  the  veranda 
and  gave  Mosby  a  most  cordial  and 
delighted  welcome. 

The  guerrilla  chief  proved  a  more 
kindly  captor  than  Jack  had  expected. 
After  carefully  investigating  the  small 
room  upstairs,  where  he  proposed  to 
confine  his  prisoner,  to  see  that  the 
windows  were  nailed  up,  and  the  lock 
of  the  door  secure,  he  gave  Jack  a  cor 
dial  invitation  to  come  down  to  supper, 
which  the  old  ladies  were  endeavoring 
to  prepare  for  their  unexpected  guests. 
Fortunately,  having  captured  a  quantity 
of  supplies  from  a  Federal  train  during 
his  Northern  raid,  Mosby  had  a  pack- 
horse  with  his  escort,  which  proved  a 
190 


By  tf^omans  Wit 


veritable  godsend  to  the  sisters,  for, 
with  many  distressed  apologies,  all  they 
were  able  to  set  before  them  was  a  dish 
of  hominy  and  a  pitcher  of  milk.  Their 
joy  when  a  trooper  brought  in  a  bag  of 
coffee,  a  sack  of  flour,  hams,  sugar,  and 
a  paper  of  tea,  was  a  revelation  to  Jack, 
and  he  felt  a  throb  of  sympathy  as  he 
realized  what  war  —  grim  war  —  had 
been  to  these  and  many  another  South 
ern  woman. 

With  the  curious  bonhomie  that 
characterizes  most  soldiers  when  not 
in  actual  conflict,  the  Confederate  and 
Federal  officers  ate  their  supper  to 
gether,  Mosby  proving  himself  a  most 
agreeable  companion,  finally  producing 
half  a  dozen  fine  cigars,  which  he  laid 
on  the  table  with  a  twinkle  of  his  deep 
gray  eyes. 

"  Your  commissaries  know  what 
good  tobacco  is,"  he  said,  lighting  one, 
and  he  heaved  a  contented  sigh  as  the 
191 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


fragrant  smoke  curled  up  overhead.  "  I 
return  my  compliments  and  thanks  to 
General  Torbert,  whose  train  I  captured, 
being  quite  sure  that  I  appreciate  my 
spoils  much  more  than  he  will  his 
losses." 

At  last,  as  the  early  twilight  was 
deepening  into  night,  Jack  was  escorted 
upstairs  and  locked  carefully  into  his 
room,  which  was  supplied  with  a  candle 
and  a  small  fire.  Mosby,  who  accom 
panied  him  to  assure  himself  again 
that  all  was  safe,  gave  a  short  laugh  as 
he  saw  Jack's  eye  go  quickly  to  the 
chimney. 

"  No  chance  for  you  there,  captain, 
it 's  too  narrow.  You  're  safe  till  to 
morrow,  and  I  shall  leave  a  sentry  at 
the  door;  good-night." 

Jack  heard  the  key  click  in  the  lock, 

and  then,  in  his  turn,  began  to  scrutinize 

his  surroundings.    Candle  in  hand,  he 

inspected  the  two  windows.    From  the 

192 


By  ff^omans 


outside  he  had  seen  that  they  opened 
on  the  roof  of  the  veranda,  as  Champe 
had  said,  but,  granting  that  he  had  the 
necessary  tools,  he  could  not  extract 
the  nails  which  had  been  put  there 
without  a  noise  which  the  sentry  would 
be  sure  to  hear.  He  threw  himself  into 
a  chair  with  an  impatient  sigh.  Even 
yet  he  did  not  dare  to  open  the  ciga 
rette  case  lest  Mosby  should  make  his 
appearance  suddenly,  notwithstanding 
the  precautions  he  had  already  taken 
to  make  his  prisoner's  escape  impos 
sible.  Jack  took  out  his  watch,  laid 
it  on  the  table,  and  sat  there,  deliber 
ately  watching  the  hands  tick  on  for 
full  twenty  minutes.  Then,  with  ears 
strained  to  catch  every  sound,  he  pulled 
out  the  cigarette  case. 

It  was  a  pretty  trifle,  as  he  had  called 
it  when  seen  by  the  light  of  old  Mose's 
lantern  at  Conrad's  Ferry,  and  as  he 
searched  eagerly  for  the  hidden  spring 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


he  wondered  what  it  had  concealed 
then.  What  was  it  she  said  ?  "  The 
cipher  escaped  you  once."  By  Jove! 
that  'was  it,  of  course.  The  case  had 
evidently  been  filled  again,  for  the  first 
spring,  which  he  found  easily,  opened, 
and  there  were  four  cigarettes,  as  inno 
cent-looking  as  those  he  had  destroyed. 
He  pressed  his  fingers  on  the  diamond- 
studded  death's-head;  it  remained  in 
tact.  Perhaps  it  had  some  connection 
with  the  other  spring.  No,  that  failed 
also.  As  he  again  placed  his  fingers  on 
it  he  moved  his  hand  gently  to  the 
right;  the  skeleton  head  turned  half 
way  round,  the  crossbones  sprang  up; 
and  lo,  a  false  bottom  lay  open  before 
him.  In  it  was  a  tiny  file  of  highly  tem 
pered  steel,  a  coil  of  wire,  and  a  scrap 
of  paper  tightly  folded.  Jack  hastily 
hid  the  file  and  wire  inside  his  coat, 
inspected  carefully  the  curious  mech 
anism  of  the  death's-head,  swung  it 
194 


By  Woman  s  Wit 


back  into  place,  and  unrolled  the  paper, 
which  contained  several  penciled  lines 
without  signature. 

"If  you  escape  on  this  side  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  follow  the  ravine  back  to 
the  plantation.  Judith  has  instructions. 
Password,  '  Conrad's  Ferry.' ' 

Jack  sprang  to  his  feet  in  almost  uncon 
trollable  excitement.  She  had  planned 
this  before  they  left  the  plantation. 
Fate  had  played  into  her  hands  by  mak 
ing  the  crossing  at  Berry's  Ferry  im 
passable,  and  now  she  had  gone  back. 
By  heavens!  he  would  get  there  and 
see  her  once  again  if  he  had  to  run  the 
gauntlet  of  all  Mosby's  command  with 
only  his  own  unaided  fists.  He  could 
see  her  smile,  her  lovely  mouth,  and  the 
exquisite  turn  of  her  throat  as  she  had 
lain  there  asleep,  trusting  to  his  honor 
as  a  gentleman  to  protect  her.  God 
bless  her!  thumped  Jack's  heart;  and 
then  he  pulled  himself  together,  pressed 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  paper  to  his  lips,  and,  holding  it  over 
the  candle,  watched  it  burn,  and  threw 
the  ashes  carefully  on  the  fire. 

An  hour  passed  ;  two  hours.  Jack 
sat  by  the  table  thinking.  It  was  now 
ten  o'clock,  and  the  house  was  appar 
ently  quiet,  its  inmates  asleep.  Again 
he  examined  the  windows,  but  the  panes 
were  small,  and  the  outside  blinds 
wooden.  As  he  stood  before  them,  al 
most  in  despair,  he  was  conscious  of  a 
strange  pungent  smell  which  penetrated 
his  nostrils.  It  was  smoke;  either  the 
house  or  some  of  the  outhouses  were 
on  fire! 

Jack  took  out  the  wire  Champe  had 
given  him  and  walked  softly  to  the 
door  of  the  room.  Very  gently  he  in 
serted  the  end  of  it  in  the  keyhole  by 
aid  of  the  file  and  found  that  he  could 
turn  the  locl^,  Slowly,  surely,  the  wire 
was  accomplishing  the  work;  he 
paused  and  listened.  Not  a  sound;  had 
196 


By  Romans  Wit 


the  sentry  been  withdrawn,  —  perhaps 
not  placed  there  ?  The  smoke  was  now 
increasing  perceptibly;  evidently  the 
barn  was  on  fire,  for  he  could  see  a  glare 
from  the  outside,  and  then,  as  the  lock 
finally  yielded  to  his  hand,  there  sounded 
on  the  still  night  the  long-drawn  shriek 
of  a  frightened  horse. 

Jack  heard  the  rush  of  footsteps  in 
the  hall  and  on  the  stairs,  and  creeping 
softly  outside,  closed  the  door  behind 
him,  then  tiptoed  through  another  door 
which  he  saw  open  at  his  left.  Once 
inside  he  stood  perfectly  still.  There 
was  a  very  faint  light  from  a  smoulder 
ing  log  on  the  hearth,  and  by  it  he  saw 
a  big,  old-fashioned,  four-posted  bed 
stead  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  Evi 
dently  the  occupant  had  just  left  it,  for 
the  bed  was  empty  and  the  bed-clothes 
were  thrown  back.  It  was  the  work  of  a 
minute  for  Jack  to  close  the  door,  shoot 
the  bolt,  and  rush  across  to  the  window. 
197 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


He  raised  it,  threw  his  leg  cautiously 
over  the  sill,  and  drew  himself  carefully 
out  on  the  veranda  roof.  Then,  mind 
ful  of  the  faint  light  behind  him,  he  de 
liberately  shut  the  window,  pushed  to 
the  wooden  blind  lest  he  should  be  seen 
from  below,  and  crawled  cautiously 
down  the  sloping  roof  to  reach  the 
branches  of  the  friendly  tree  which 
overhung  it  so  thickly  that  even  then 
they  afforded  some  shelter.  A  few  steps 
brought  him  to  the  end  of  the  roof,  and  as 
he  poised  himself  with  his  legs  over  the 
edge  he  heard  a  voice  below  him  say,  — 

"  Hold  the  nag  for  a  minute,  Frank; 
I  Ve  got  to  rush  back  and  see  if  the 
colonel's  gray  is  safe.  Old  Martin  is 
in  a  blue  funk;  it  was  his  pipe  that  did 
the  mischief." 

Jack  peered  over  the  roof.    By  the 

light  of  the  fire  he  could  see  that  the 

horse  held  by  the  trooper  was  one  of 

those  belonging  to  his  men,  and  he  knew 

198 


By  Woman  s  Wit 


that  it  was  fresh.  With  an  agile  spring, 
such  as  he  used  to  make  in  the  old 
"Gym  "  at  West  Point,  where  he  was  a 
practiced  athlete,  he  launched  himself 
into  mid-air  and  landed  fair  and  square 
on  the  back  of  the  astonished  horse,  who 
reared  and  plunged  as  Jack  grasped 
him  by  the  mane,  and  the  reins  were 
dragged  from  the  trooper's  hand.  The 
attack  was  so  sudden,  so  artfully  planned 
and  well  executed,  that  Jack  was  a 
dozen  yards  away  before  the  Confeder 
ate  could  snatch  his  revolver  from  his 
belt  and  fire.  Jack's  hand  went  invol 
untarily  to  the  holster.  Yes,  thank  God ! 
there  was  a  revolver  left  by  the 
"Johnny  Reb  "  who  had  bestrode  his 
new  mount  so  proudly  that  morning. 
Another  dash,  a  swerve  to  avoid  the 
trees  when  he  reached  in  safety  the  road 
beyond  the  gate,  and  then  Jack  drew  a 
long,  free  breath  as  he  realized  that,  so 
far,  he  had  made  his  escape. 


Chapter  XI 

At  Peyton  Hall 

AFTER  the  second  mile  Jack  drew  his 
rein  and  proceeded  more  cautiously. 
He  remembered  that  Mosby  had  made 
passing  reference  to  some  of  his  squad 
ron  who  were  lagging  behind,  and  it 
would  be  evil  fortune,  indeed,  if  he 
should  chance  to  fall  foul  of  them.  His 
wisest  plan,  perhaps,  would  be  to  strike 
off  in  a  northwesterly  direction,  hoping 
to  reach  Opequan  Creek  where  he  could 
cross  it  and  get  through  to  Winches 
ter,  avoiding  the  small  towns  that  lay 
in  his  way,  which  either  Federal  or 
Confederate  might  be  occupying,  as 
events  ruled.  But  first,  he  must  reach 
the  Peyton  plantation  as  Champe  had 
bidden  him.  Her  directions  were,  no 
doubt,  the  result  of  her  knowledge  re- 
200 


At  Peyton  Hall 

garding  the  Confederate  movements, 
and  it  would  be  folly  to  disregard  them 
even  if  he  wished,  —  which  he  did  not, 
—  and  his  blood  quickened  and  thrilled 
as  he  thought  how  soon  he  should  look 
into  her  eyes  again. 

The  ravine,  through  which  he  was 
directed  to  go  to  reach  the  plantation, 
intersected  the  main  road,  and  Jack 
was  racking  his  brain  to  remember  the 
exact  point  where  he  could  find  it, 
when  his  horse  began  to  prick  up  its 
ears  and  give  indication  of  alarm.  Jack 
listened  eagerly;  very  faintly  he  thought 
he  could  distinguish  the  sound  of  hoof- 
beats  on  the  road  ahead.  In  a  second 
he  threw  himself  off  the  saddle  and, 
leading  his  horse,  plunged  into  the  pine 
woods  on  the  left.  Then,  holding  the 
animal  firmly  by  the  nose  to  prevent 
its  whinnying,  he  cocked  his  revolver 
and  waited. 

Presently  there  loomed  in  sight  two 
20 1 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


riders.  They  were  walking  their 
mounts  and  talking  in  tones  which 
were  distinct  enough  to  reach  the  lis 
tener.  One  of  the  men  wore  civilian's 
dress;  the  other,  under  a  long  cavalry 
cloak,  evidently  was  in  uniform,  for 
Jack  could  hear  the  click  of  his  sabre 
against  the  stirrup  as  they  came  to  a 
halt  nearly  opposite  him. 

"  I  must  see  Mosby  to-night,"  said 
the  latter  in  the  soft  Southern  intona 
tion,  which  Jack  instantly  recognized 
as  belonging  to  his  whilom  captive, 
General  Lafonte.  "But  I  do  not  think 
I  shall  accompany  him  back  to  Rich 
mond.  There  is  work  for  me  here,  and 
I  gladly  take  advantage  of  your  offer  to 
return  to  the  plantation  and  lie  perdu 
for  a  few  days  until  I  get  my  orders 
from  General  Lee.  How  long  do  you 
remain  in  this  vicinity?  " 

"  I  leave  for  Baltimore  to-night,"  said 
the  other,  and  Jack,  leaning  forward 
202 


At  Peyton  Hall 

cautiously,  saw  that  the  speaker  was 
Peyton  Randolph.  "  I  was  on  my  way 
to  the  plantation  when  we  met,  and 
must  leave  you  now,  general,  to  go 
there.  The  road  seems  safe  to-night, 
but  when  you  come  again,  take  the 
ravine,  which  is  a  short  cut,  and  you 
will  strike  it  by  a  bridle  path  a  few  rods 
to  your  right." 

Jack  shrank  still  farther  into  the 
shadows  as  Peyton  raised  his  whip  and 
pointed  straight  in  his  direction;  then 
with  a  courteous  good  -  night  to  his 
companion  he  wheeled  his  horse  and 
trotted  up  the  road,  where  Jack  lost 
sight  of  him  as  he  disappeared  beyond 
the  pines. 

It  was  close  upon  midnight  when 
Champe  Randolph,  raising  the  shade, 
looked  out  of  her  window  across  the 
lawn  with  somewhat  anxious  eyes. 
Three  times  had  she  repeated  the  ac 
tion,  at  intervals  of  half  an  hour,  and 
203 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


now  she  was  almost  sure  she  saw  a 
figure  move  cautiously  from  one  tree 
to  another.  She  lowered  the  shade  and 
darted  out  into  the  hall. 

"  Aunt  Judith,"  she  called  softly,  "be 
ready  to  open  the  door  quickly.  I  think 
some  one  is  coming  across  the  lawn." 

As  she  spoke  she  ran  swiftly  down 
the  stairs,  and  was  just  in  time  to  see 
a  tall  figure  slip  across  the  threshold 
while  Aunt  Judith  hurriedly  closed  and 
bolted  the  door  behind  him.  But  it 
was  not  her  brother  who  clasped  her 
hand  in  both  of  his,  but  a  man  wearing 
the  hated  Federal  blue,  who  gazed 
down  into  her  face  with  eyes  that 
thrilled  her  very  soul  with  their  pas 
sionate  feeling,  and  whose  breathless 
voice  said, — 

"  I  have  come  to  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul  for  your  angelic  good 
ness  to  me  before  I  am  once  again  a 
prisoner.  There  is  some  one  hard  on 
204 


At  Peyton  Hall 

my  track.  I  had  only  time  to  slip  off 
my  saddle,  throw  it  into  the  bushes,  and 
set  my  horse  free  to  gallop  away,  hop 
ing  he  would  be  pursued  by  the  rider 
who  was  following  me,  while  I  ran 
into  the  ravine  and  gained  your  door. 
Hide  this;  I  may  be  searched  again," 
—  and  he  thrust  the  cigarette  case  into 
her  hand. 

Without  a  word,  but  with  indescrib 
able  swiftness,  Champe  seized  Jack  by 
the  wrist  and  dragged  him  inside  the 
parlor.  The  light  from  the  hall  shone 
dimly  against  the  heavy  oak  wainscot 
ing,  which  was  black  with  age  and 
set  in  square  panels  around  the  room. 
Stooping  down,  her  deft  fingers  pushed 
one  of  the  carved  leaves  that  ran  like 
a  wreath  around  its  base;  the  panel 
moved  noiselessly  out  and  disclosed  a 
dark  aperture,  —  the  secret  chamber  of 
Peyton  Hall. 

"You  are  safe  till  I  release  you," 
205 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


she  whispered.  "It  may  be  daybreak 
before  I  come,  but  I  will  not  fail  you." 

Her  hand  rested  for  a  brief  second 
in  his,  and  then  the  panel  swung  back 
into  its  place  as  silently  as  before. 

Aunt  Judith,  snuffing  the  candle  in 
the  hall,  felt  Champe's  hand  press  her 
shoulder. 

"  Remember,  Judith,"  said  her  mis 
tress  firmly,  "  not  one  word  to  Mr. 
Peyton;  you  understand ?" 

"Laws,  yes,  honey;  you  done  tole 
me  twice  a'ready.  Whar  fo'  yo'  tink 
Judith  gwine  to  play  spy  after  all  dis 
yer  miration?  Dar's  Marse  Peyton  now, 
chile;  doan  yo*  hyar  his  whistle?" 

Champe  darted  to  the  front  door  and 
threw  it  open.  Her  brother  stood  at 
the  foot  of  the  steps  holding  his  horse, 
and  she  ran  down  to  greet  him. 

"  Call  one  of  the  boys  to  take  my 
horse.  I  must  be  off  before  four 
o'clock,"  he  said.  "  Lafonte  told  me 
206 


At  Peyton  Hall 

you  were  here,  or  I  should  not  have 
stopped  as  I  am  pressed  for  time,  but 
I  have  news  for  you,  Champe.  Come 
inside."  Then,  to  a  gray-haired  negro 
who  came  hobbling  up  from  the  almost 
deserted  servants'  quarters,  where  he 
had  been  fast  asleep,  his  master  said 
quickly:  "  Have  you  seen  any  straggler 
about  the  place,  Pomp?  Perhaps  I'd 
better  come  down  to  the  barn  with 
you.  I  chased  an  apparently  riderless 
horse  that  I  heard  dashing  about  the 
pine  woods  near  our  gate,  but  could 
get  no  trace  of  his  rider,  nor  any  sign 
of  other  horsemen  who  may  have  pur 
sued  him." 

"No,  Marse  Peyton,  I  done  see  no 
body  't  all.  Miss  Champe  tole  me  ter 
keep  watch,  an'  I  'se  been  sittin'  an'  sit- 
tin'  in  de  winder  wot  oberlooks  de  house 
an'  de  barn,  an'  not  even  a  jack-rabbit 
hab  run  'cross." 

"  Not  many  rabbits  left  to  run,"  said 
207 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Peyton  good-naturedly,  as  he  followed 
Champe  inside. 

She  went  down  the  hall,  but  he  called 
her  back,  taking  the  candle  from  the 
table  as  he  did  so. 

"  There  is  a  fire  in  the  dining-room," 
she  said,  as  he  walked  to  the  parlor 
door.  "  I  'm  afraid  that  one  is  out.  Aunt 
Judith,  bring  a  fresh  log  here,  please, 
and  get  ready  some  refreshments  for 
Mr.  Peyton  before  he  goes." 

Peyton  set  the  candle  down  on  the 
parlor  mantel,  and,  turning,  surveyed  her 
with  such  gravity  that  Champe  cried 
out,  — 

"  What  is  it  ?  You  look  as  if  you  were 
the  bearer  of  bad  news." 

"So  I  am;  Estes  Carey"  — 

"  Not  found  guilty  by  court-martial  ?  " 

"No,  dear,"  he  said  gently.  "He  is 
dead"  — 

Champe  gave  a  sharp  cry. 

"Dead!  Oh,  Peyton,  do  you  mean 
208 


At  Peyton  Hall 

that  I  am  too  late,  —  that  he  was 
shot?" 

"No;  though  I  fear  that  would  have 
been  the  verdict.  He  was  found  dead 
in  the  room  where  he  was  confined  at 
Orange  Court  House.  It  was  an  em 
bolism  of  the  heart." 

Champe  gave  a  gasp,  and  stumbled 
blindly  into  the  nearest  chair. 

"  I  shall  never  forgive  myself,"  she 
moaned.  "  Why  did  I  let  him  stay  that 
evening! " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  her 
brother  sternly.  "  Had  you  anything 
to  do  with  those  belated  dispatches? 
My  God,  Champe,  I  trust  you  were  not 
mixed  up  in  that  affair.  This  comes  of 
my  permitting  you  to  "  — 

"  Stop !  "  she  cried  passionately.  "  I 
am  my  own  mistress,  and  accountable 
to  no  one  for  my  actions." 

"  Were  you  engaged  to  Estes  Carey  ? " 

"That  is  a  question  I  shall  not  an- 
209 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


swer.  But  I  do  know  that  he  was  kept 
for  more  than  an  hour  at  the  house 
where  we  stopped  after  crossing  Hazel 
River,  because  the  horse  which  should 
have  been  in  readiness  for  him  was  in 
the  field  and  could  not  be  caught,  and 
he  spent  that  time  with  me.  I  know  the 
exact  hour  at  which  he  left,  and  it  was 
to  give  this  testimony  that  I  was  hurry 
ing  south." 

There  was  a  pause ;  Champe  endeav 
ored  to  regain  her  composure.  She 
suddenly  remembered  that  every  word 
they  spoke  could  be  heard  by  the  occu 
pant  of  the  closet  behind  the  panel. 

"  You  can  at  least  save  his  memory 
from  reproach,"  said  Peyton.  "  It  was 
the  discrepancy  in  the  time  which  made 
the  worst  feature  of  the  charges  against 
him.,*  Poor  Estes;  I  loved  him  well." 
Then,  seeing  his  sister's  eyes  fill  with 
tears,  he  added  in  a  lighter  tone,  "  Gen 
eral  Lee  has  determined  "  — 

210 


At  Peyton  Hall 

"Wait  a  moment,"  she  said,  inter 
rupting  him  hastily,  fearing  that  valua 
ble  information  might  reach  ears  for 
which  it  was  certainly  not  intended. 
"  I  am  freezing  here,  Peyton;  come  into 
the  dining-room.  I  am  sure  you  must 
be  starving,  and  we  can  talk  there  while 
you  are  eating  supper." 

Jack's  vigil  would  assuredly  have 
proved  a  long  one  to  him  in  the 
cramped  quarters  where  he  was  con 
cealed,  but  for  the  fact  that  it  was 
provided  with  a  mattress  and  several 
pillows,  whereon  he  ensconced  him 
self  comfortably  after  Champe  and  her 
brother  had  left  the  room,  and  fell 
asleep.  He  woke  with  a  start  as  a 
light  flashed  in  his  eyes,  and  instinc 
tively  he  grasped  his  revolver  as  he 
sprang  to  his  feet.  But  it  was  Judith's 
kindly  black  face  that  met  his  gaze,  not 
the  fair  smiling  one  of  which  he  had 
been  dreaming. 

211 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  Come  along,  Marse  Captain,"  said 
she  softly.  "  I  'se  got  some  corn  pone 
an'  aigs  in  der  oder  room  fo'  yo',  an' 
Pomp 's  on  de  hunt  f o'  yo'  saddle  whar 
Miss  Champe  said  yo'  hid  it  in  de 


ravine." 


"Thank  you,  aunty;  but  who  will 
supply  the  horse?  I  sent  mine  flying 
through  the  woods  last  night,  and  no 
doubt  my  pursuers  caught  him." 

"  'Deed  dey  did  n't,  sah.  Dat  hoss 
ob  yourn  's  got  mighty  good  hoss  sense. 
I  doan  know  whar  yo'  sent  him,  but 
Pomp  done  fouri*  him  'bout  an  hour 
ago  standin'  whinnyin'  outside  de  barn, 
talkin'  to  li'le  Missy's  mare.  De  sense 
ob  dat  hoss  —  ef  he  'd  come  dar  jus'  ten 
minutes  befo'  he  'd  hev  struck  Marse 
Peyton  goin'  out.  Spec  dat  hoss  am  a 
good  Yank,  too,  sah." 

Jack  echoed  Judith's  chuckle,  but 
kept  his  eyes  on  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room,  praying  that  Champe  would  ap- 

212 


At  Peyton  Hall 

pear  for  one  farewell  word  before  he 
rode  away.  There  was  a  faint  light  of 
dawn  in  the  sky  as  he  came  into  the 
hall,  and  in  the  semi-darkness  he  saw 
her  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

"  I  must  hurry  you  away,"  she  said. 
"  At  any  moment  one  of  our  officers 
might  appear,  and  I  should  be  power 
less  to-  help  you." 

"You  have  done  —  everything,"  he 
said,  looking  at  the  fair  face  where  the 
trace  of  tears  was  visible,  and  seeing 
added  beauty  in  the  touch  of  sadness 
they  had  brought. 

"  And  now  you  know  the  secret  of 
Peyton  Hall,"  she  added  more  lightly. 
"  There  is  a  concealed  stair  in  the  wall 
which  leads  from  the  room  above  to 
this  below.  It  opens  with  a  spring  of 
the  same  sort;  that  explains  how  Gen 
eral  Lafonte  was  able  to  elude  you  so 
cleverly.  Captain  Phillipse,"  —  she  hes 
itated,  and  a  brilliant  blush  dyed  her 
213 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


face,  —  "I  trust  when  you  cross  this 
threshold  that  you  will  forget  all  that 
I  would  wish  forgotten  "  — 

Again  his  eyes  seemed  to  read  her 
soul  as  her  voice  faltered.  He  took  her 
hand. 

"I  will  remember  nothing  but  that 
you  are  the  bravest  and  most  generous 
of  women.  There  are  other  w6rds  I 
would  like  to  add" — 

She  drew  her  hand  away. 

"No,  no,"  she  cried,  "not — now!" 

Another  moment  and  Jack  was  in  the 
saddle,  but  as  he  spurred  his  horse  from 
the  door,'  the  memory  of  her  voice,  as 
it  trembled  on  the  last  word,  carried 
comfort  to  his  otherwise  aching  heart. 


Chapter    XII 

Face  to  Face 

THE  mansion  at  the  corner  of  Mt.  Ver- 
non  Square  was  brilliantly  lighted. 
Mrs.  Vansittart  was  giving  a  dinner, 
evidently  a  large  one,  judging  by  the 
carriages  that  rolled  up  to  her  door. 
The  guests  were  chiefly  young  people, 
with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Pegram  and 
Colonel  Denbigh,  for  the  dinner  was 
considered  as  an  announcement  of  Ce- 
cile's  engagement  to  Fitz  Tilghman; 
news  of  which  had  come  rather  sud 
denly  to  social  Baltimore,  accustomed 
though  it  was  to  war-time  love  affairs 
and  marriages.  But  just  before  the  hour 
for  the  guests  to  assemble  an  apparently 
unfortunate  contretemps  occurred.  Mrs. 
Vansittart  was  about  to  descend  the 
215 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


stai^ase  when  Stephanie  came  running 
down  the  hall. 

"  If  Madame  pleases,  here  is  a  note 
which  the  bearer  says  is  most  impor 
tant.  I  told  him  Madame  was  occupied, 
but  he  insists  that  he  will  wait  for  a 
reply." 

Mrs.  Vansittart  broke  the  seal  and 
ran  her  eyes  over  the  penciled  lines  it 
contained. 

The  man  -whose  arrest  you  directed 
will  be  at  Dalkeith  before  midnight. 
At  what  hour  shall  I  proceed  ? 

BENNETT. 

For  a  moment  Evelyn's  hand  trem 
bled;  then  she  turned  back  to  her  bou 
doir,  where  Stephanie  followed  her,  and, 
seating  herself  at  her  desk,  wrote  rapidly 
in  reply,  - 

"  At  twelve  o'clock.  Await  my  com 
ing." 

She  sealed  the  envelope. 
216 


Face  to  Face 

"  Give  this  to  the  bearer.  Order  my 
coupe  to  be  at  the  door  in  fifteen  min 
utes;  then  return  to  my  room." 

Mrs.  Pegram  had  arrived  early  and 
was  with  Cecile,  watching  the  girl,  who, 
with  radiant  face,  was  drawing  on  her 
gloves,  when  Mrs.  Vansittart  came  has 
tily  into  the  room. 

"  Cecile,  my  darling,  I  am  so  very, 
very  sorry  to  have  anything  happen  to 
alter  our  plans  for  to-night,  but  poor 
Tante  Therese  is  suddenly  taken  ill  and 
in  great  danger.  She  has  sent  for  me, 
and  I  must  go  to  her  at  once.  Mrs.  Pe 
gram  will,  I  know,  do  me  the  great  kind 
ness  to  preside  in  my  place  at  dinner, 
and  stay  with  you  until  I  return.  I  have 
ordered  the  blue  bedroom  arranged  for 
you,"  to  Mrs.  Pegram,  "  as  I  may  be 
detained  late." 

"  Oh,  mamma,  how  very  unfortunate ! 
Can  you  not  wait  until  after  dinner? 
Fitz  and  I  will  be  so,  so  disappointed; " 
217 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


and  Cecile  looked  ready  to  burst  into 
tears. 

"  Of  course  I  will  take  your  place  at 
the  dinner-table,"  said  Mrs.  Pegram, 
"  but  I  think  I  must  go  home  to-night, 
as  I  brought  my  carriage  in  town,  and 
it  will  wait  for  me.  But,  with  Cecile,  I 
wish  you  might  be  here  for  at  least  part 
of  the  dinner." 

"  I  must  explain  that  Tante  The"rese 
is  my  foster-mother,"  said  Mrs.  Vansit- 
tart.  "  Indeed,  she  deserves  all  the  care 
I  can  give  her  for  her  devotion  to  me 
in  my  youth.  Try  and  get  on  without 
me,  dear;  I  will  hasten  back  as  soon  as 
I  am  able  to  leave  her." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  Vansittart  car 
riage  drew  up  at  the  little  house  on 
Linden  Avenue.  Petit  Jean  opened  the 
door. 

"You  need  not  return  for  me,"  said 
Mrs.  Vansittart  to  her  coachman.  "I 
will  get  a  carriage  and  drive  home  when 
218 


Face  to  Face 

I  am  ready,"  and  she  entered  the  house 
as  the  servant  drove  away. 

Tante  The'rese,  standing  in  the  front 
room,  was  confronted  by  Evelyn,  who, 
with  pale  face  and  gleaming  eyes,  laid 
her  hand  on  her  arm,  whispering, — 

"  Success  at  last  !  He  has  fallen  into 
the  trap,  and  is  at  Dalkeith  House,  where 
I  am  going  to  meet  him.  Send  Petit 
Jean  for  a  carriage,  —  be  sure  he  gets  a 
good  swift  horse,  no  matter  what  the 
carriage  is  like,  —  and  I  wish  him  to 
drive.  Let  him  lose  no  time." 

Tante  The'rese  disappeared  by  the 
kitchen  door,  and  Evelyn  paced  the 
floor  until  her  return. 

"  Do  I  go  also,  my  heart  ?  "  asked  the 
Creole. 

"No.  For  years  I  have  waited  and 
prayed  for  this  hour,  —  the  hour  of  my 
revenge;  now  I  will  meet  him  face  to 
face,  alone.  There  is  a  fire  in  my  veins 
that  seems  to  consume  me." 
219 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


She  loosened  her  fiir  cloak  as  she 
spoke,  and  Th6rese  saw  that  she  was 
in  evening  dress. 

"  Mon  enfant!  "  she  exclaimed  in  dis 
may;  "such  exposure  in  this  weather  — 
and  the  drive  is  long." 

"  I  had  no  time  to  change  my  dress. 
I  was  giving  a  dinner  for  Cecile.  It  has 
happened  well,  Tante  The'rese.  I  have 
been  expecting  the  news  for  days,  but 
it  came  only  half  an  hour  ago,  and  most 
fortunately  his  sister  is  at  my  house, 
where  she  will  stop  till  I  return.  For 
tune  favored  me  so  far.  I  was  obliged 
to  make  the  excuse  that  you  were  des 
perately  ill  in  order  to  leave  them.  Re 
main  here  and  watch  till  Petit  Jean 
comes  back." 

"  Let  me  go !  "  implored  The'rese.  "  I 
fear  for  thee,  —  and  —  yes,  —  I  fear  him 
as  I  feared  him  years  ago." 

Evelyn's  cold  smile  was  not  good  to 
see.  She  had  partially  regained  her  usual 
220 


Face  to  Face 

composure,  but  Tante  Therese  knew 
too  well  the  volcano  that  smouldered 
beneath  her  calm  exterior,  and,  as  she 
said,  she  feared.  There  was  a  sound  of 
wheels  rattling  over  the  cobblestones, 
and  she  raised  a  corner  of  the  window- 
shade  to  look  out  into  the  street. 

"  It  is  Petit  Jean  with  the  carriage ; 
but  wait.  There  will  be  no  foot-robe  to 
keep  out  the  cold.  Take  my  long  black 
cloak,  it  will  serve." 

She  took  the  cloak  off  the  nail  where 
it  hung,  and  accompanied  Evelyn  down 
the  steps,  tucking  it  carefully  around  her 
as  she  sat  in  the  carriage,  while  her 
mistress  gave  Petit  Jean  the  necessary 
directions. 

"  Dieu  vous  garde !  "  whispered  the 
old  woman,  kissing  the  hand  she  held. 
"  Remember  he  once  beguiled  thee. 
Trust  him  no  more,  not  even  if  he 
should  plead  for  mercy." 

She  stood  watching  the  carriage  till 

221 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


it  turned  the  corner,  then,  going  inside, 
she  locked  the  door  securely  and  sat 
down  to  wait.  And  as  she  waited,  her 
thoughts  were  busy  with  the  past, — 
that  past  which  had  made  a  desperate 
woman  of  Evelyn  Vansittart. 

From  the  banks  of  the  James  River, 
where  he  was  one  of  the  largest  planta 
tion  owners,  Evelyn's  father  had  gone, 
when  a  young  man,  to  pay  a  visit  in 
New  Orleans,  and  from  there  brought 
home  a  bride,  the  petted  daughter  of  a 
Spanish  Creole.  The  marriage  had  not 
been  a  happy  one;  he  was  a  handsome, 
easy-going  fellow,  too  weak  to  rule  his 
high-spirited  wife,  too  indolent  to  resist 
the  temptation  to  deceive  her  rather 
than  incur  the  bursts  of  passionate  tem 
per  to  which  she  was  addicted.  He  was 
always  much  beloved  of  women,  and 
his  wife,  no  doubt,  had  cause  for  the 
insane  jealousy,  which  included  even 
his  comely  slaves.  Indeed,  Evelyn's 

222 


Face  to  Face 

birth  had  been  hastened  by  one  of  her 
jealous  outbursts  which  he  endeav 
ored  to  soothe  by  sending  the  innocent 
cause  of  it  away  from  the  plantation. 
They  never  had  another  child.  Evelyn 
owed  most  of  the  care  which  envi 
roned  her  to  The'rese,  the  Creole,  who 
had  accompanied  her  mother  to  the 
James  River  plantation,  and  whose  de 
votion  to  the  child  she  nursed  became 
idolatry.  Tante  The'rese,  as  she  was 
called  in  the  pretty  foreign  fashion, 
was  seldom  separated  from  her  charge, 
and  when  Evelyn,  a  girl  of  sixteen,  was 
sent  to  a  finishing  school  in  New  Or 
leans,  Therese  accompanied  her.  There, 
at  the  home  of  one  of  the  young  Ameri 
can  girls,  a  schoolmate,  where  more 
freedom  was  allowed  than  would  have 
been  possible  among  the  Creoles,  she 
met  Gaspard  Lafonte.  On  the  liaison 
which  followed  it  is  unnecessary  to 
dwell,  but  it  was  to  The'rese  that  Eve- 
223 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


lyn  went  in  her  despair.  Gaspard,  loving 
her  to  distraction,  finally  awoke  to  her 
peril,  and  endeavored  to  make  every 
reparation  in  his  power.  In  haste  and 
secrecy  they  perfected  their  plans  for 
marriage,  and  Evelyn  left  New  Orleans, 
under  pretense  of  a  recall  to  her  home, 
to  meet  him.  But  from  that  day  until 
now  neither  word  nor  line  from  him 
had  ever  reached  her.  It  was  owing 
to  a  singular  chain  of  circumstances, 
which  accounted  to  her  family  for  her 
absence,  that  she  had  been  able  to  pre 
serve  her  secret  unsuspected,  unknown 
to  any  save  her  faithful  foster-mother. 
How  clearly  The'rese  remembered  the 
agony  and  despair  of  it  all,  as  she  sat 
there  waiting,  —  grim  and  relentless  as 
Fate  itself  I 

The  wind  whistled  shrilly  through  the 

oaks  and  pines  around  Dalkeith  House, 

and  a  few  big  flakes  of  snow  seemed 

the  forerunner  of  a  storm.    A  figure, 

224 


Face  to  Face 

wearing  a  tightly  buttoned  coat  which 
reached  nearly  to  his  heels,  came  cau 
tiously  up  the  carriage  road  which 
wound  around  the  lawn  to  the  front 
door.  When  nearly  there,  the  man 
paused,  hesitated,  and  then  drew  more 
closely  into  the  shade  of  the  box  hedge, 
totally  unaware  that  another  figure, 
shorter  and  more  powerfully  built,  had 
crept  along  on  the  other  side  of  it, 
and  kept  pace  with  him.  The  stranger 
evidently  knew  the  place  well,  for  he 
made  the  circuit  of  the  house  twice 
before  going  to  a  small  side  door  at 
the  end  of  a  covered  passage  which  ran 
down  to  the  stable.  Then  he  gave  a 
long,  low  whistle,  and  rapped  twice  on 
the  panel.  There  was  a  moment's  pause, 
then  the  stable  door  swung  open,  and 
some  one  came  up  the  passage  from  the 
other  end. 

"Who  dat?"  demanded  the  voice  of 
old  Cicero,  as  he    hobbled   along  the 
225 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


brick  walk.  "  Dere  ain't  nobody  home. 
De  Lawd  save  us  an'  bless  us !  —  how 
cum  yo'  hyar,  Marse  Gaspard  ?  " 
"My  sister  —  how  is  she,  Cicero?" 
"  Miss  Augusta,  sah  ?  Sholy  she 's  all 
right.  She  's  gwine  in  to  Baltimo'  dis 
ebenin',  an'  Jim  drove  'caise  I  'se  been 
havin'  a  misery  pow'ful  bad  lately.  But 
doan  stan'  hyar,  Marse ;  cum  right  inter 
de  house.  It  mought  be  dangerous  ef 
anybody  wuz  'round,  tho'  I  ain't  seen 
nobody  hyar  lookin'  or  searchin'  fur 
some  days,  sah." 

Following  the  negro,  General  Laf  ohte 
entered  the  library,  and  Cicero  lit  the 
lamps,  first  drawing  the  shades  down 
carefully.  The  room  was  empty,  but 
the  blazing  wood  fire  gave  out  gener 
ous  warmth,  and  he  sat  down  beside 
it,  grateful  for  the  rest  and  comfort  it 
suggested,  while  Cicero  went  out  to 
forage  for  supper.  Returning  with  a 
tray  plentifully  filled,  and  a  bottle  of 
226 


Face  to  Face 

wine,  the  old  servant  waited  upon  him 
respectfully,  talking  as  he  did  so. 

"  Shall  I  order  a  bed  made  ready  for 
you,  sah?  De  servants  is  all  gone  to 
bed  'cept  Miss  Augusta's  maid,  an' 
she's  soun'  asleep  in  de  kitchen;  jes' 
left  her  dar." 

"  I  think  not,  Cicero."  Lafonte  looked 
up  a  trifle  wearily.  "From  what  you 
say,  my  sister  is  perfectly  well.  The 
message  which  I  received  spoke  of  her 
serious  illness;  and  although  I  can  im 
agine  no  reason  for  treachery,  coming 
as  it  did  through  the  usual  source,  per 
haps  it  is  best  for  me  to  depart  as  I 
came." 

"  Sholy  yo?  won't  go  widout  seein' 
Miss  Augusta,  sah  ?  She  'd  feel  terribly 
upset  to  miss  yo'." 

"  I  would  be  safer  in  the  city,  Cicero. 
You  recollect  what  a  narrow  escape  I 
had  the  last  time  I  came  up." 

"Well,  den,  Marse,  ef  yo'se  sot  upon 
227 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


goin'  I  '11  saddle  a  hoss  fur  yo'.  Yo'se 
nearly  daid  beat,  an'  ef  yo'  mus'  go,  trus' 
to  de  boss's  legs  radder  than  yo'  own. 
Sit  right  hyar  by  de  fire,  an'  't  won't 
take  dis  niggar  long  to  saddle  up,  an' 
I  '11  cum  an'  let  yo'  outer  de  back  do' 
myself." 

Cicero  hustled  off,  resolving  to  attend 
to  this  matter  without  calling  one  of 
the  "  boys  "  to  assist  him  as  he  usually 
did,  but  as  the  faithful  old  soul  ambled 
down  the  brick  walk  to  the  stable  a 
strong  arm  seized  him  from  behind, 
a  gag  was  thrust  into  his  mouth  before 
he  could  utter  a  shout  for  help,  and  he 
was  dragged  as  quickly  as  his  struggles 
would  permit  into  the  stable,  where  he 
was  laid  on  the  floor  and  securely  bound. 

After  waiting  some  twenty  minutes 
for  the  negro's  return,  Gaspard  Lafonte 
thought  he  heard  the  sound  of  wheels 
crunching  the  ground  on  the  side  of 
the  house.  He  glanced  at  his  watch; 
228 


Face  to  Face 

it  might  be  his  sister  returning  from 
Baltimore,  or  it  might  be  dangerous 
intruders.  He  sprang  swiftly  to  his  feet 
as  the  door  opened  and  closed  behind 
a  woman's  graceful  form.  As  his  eyes 
fell  upon  her  he  staggered  and  caught 
the  table  to  save  himself  from  falling, 
and  a  gasping  cry  escaped  him, — 

"Eve!  Eve!    Oh,  my  God!" 

She  stood  before  him  in  all  her  won 
derful  beauty;  the  costly  furs  dropped 
from  her  shoulders,  which  gleamed 
white  and  shapely  as  they  rose  above 
her  low-cut  gown.  Her  face  was  pale 
as  death;  her  eyes  sombre,  yet  full  of 
fire. 

"Gaspard  Lafonte,  what  have  you 
to  say  to  me,  —  the  woman  whom  you 
betrayed  and  deserted  in  her  hour  of 
utmost  need  ? " 

"  Eve,  my  darling!  " 

He  tried  to  take  her  in  his  arms. 
She  raised  her  white  hand  and  struck 
229 


A  jfavelin  of  Fate 


him  in  the  face,  a  mere  touch,  but  it 
stung  him  to  the  heart.  He  groaned 
aloud  as  he  released  her. 

"You  thought  that?"  he  asked. 

She  made  no  reply;  with  a  look  of 
utter  scorn  she  waited  for  his  answer 
to  her  accusation. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  as 
the  man  strove  for  self-control.  Twice 
he  tried  to  speak,  but  only  an  inartic 
ulate  murmur  reached  her  ears.  He 
turned  from  her,  walked  swiftly  across 
the  room,  and  then,  recovering  himself, 
faced  her  with  eyes  as  stern  and  un 
yielding  as  her  own. 

"  How  dare  you  condemn  me  un 
heard  ? "  he  said.  "  I,  who  have  spent 
years  of  sorrow  in  which  I  searched 
vainly  for  you,  exhausting  every  clue; 
I,  whose  soul  was  so  passionately  bound 
to  yours  that  no  other  love  could  enter 
there;  I,  who  would  have  mourned  you 
as  dead  rather  than  deem  you  unfaithful. 
230 


Face  to  Face 

Could  you  not  give  me  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt?" 

"  No !  "  The  pitiless  word  was  her 
sole  answer. 

"  Eve,  you  must  —  you  shall  hear 
me." 

She  inclined  her  head  with  the 
haughty  grace  for  which  she  was  famed, 
and  sank  into  a  chair.  Not  by  the 
quiver  of  an  eyelid  would  she  show  him 
how  the  old  fascination  was  beginning 
to  exert  itself;  Therese  had  been  wise 
to  warn  her.  He  remained  standing, 
leaning  one  hand  upon  the  table  as  he 
faced  her,  his  words  coming  slowly  and 
distinctly  at  first,  then  quickening  into 
passionate  appeal. 

"When  I  left  you  with  Therese  to  go 
home  and  arrange  my  affairs,  it  was 
with  the  understanding  that  we  were  to 
meet  in  Mobile,  as  I  was  not  known 
in  that  city,  and  be  married*  As  I  told 
you,  by  a  clause  in  my  father's  will  I 
231 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


could  inherit  nothing  if  I  married  before 
I  was  twenty-five,  and  I  then  lacked 
two  years  of  that  age.  Therefore  I  went 
to  Baton  Rouge  to  collect  a  small  leg 
acy  which  had  been  left  me  by  an 
aunt,  for  I  needed  the  money  to  use  for 
you  in  your  coming  trial.  I  sold  my 
securities  and  started  down  the  Missis 
sippi  to  hasten  to  your  side.  That  night, 
as  our  boat  was  indulging  in  the  almost 
inevitable  race  with  a  rival  steamer, 
she  caught  fire,  a  frightful  accident 
followed,  and  many  of  the  passengers 
lost  their  lives.  I  was  fortunate  in  se 
curing  a  rail  to  which  I  lashed  myself, 
but  as  the  steamer  sank  a  falling  timber 
struck  me.  I  was  picked  up  the  follow 
ing  morning  at  Bonnet  Quarre,  where 
I  had  floated,  unconscious  from  a  frac 
ture  of  the  skull.  I  fortunately  fell  into 
the  hands  of  a  skillful  doctor  who  tre 
panned  me,  but  for  days  after  the  oper 
ation,  my  life  was  despaired  of,  and 
232 


Face  to  Face 

when  at  last  I  was  able  to  be  carried  to 
New  Orleans,  it  was  only  to  be  placed  in 
a  hospital.  When  I  left  there,  though 
hardly  able  to  travel,  I  went  at  once  to 
Mobile,  to  find  that  both  you  and  The'- 
rese  had  disappeared,  leaving  no  address 
behind.  I  searched  the  city ;  I  went 
nearly  mad  with  anxiety,  for  I  dared 
not  write  to  you  at  your  home,  or  seek 
you  there.  When  I  ventured,  six  months 
after,  to  visit  Richmond  I  learned  that 
your  father  had  died,  and  you,  with  your 
mother,  had  gone  abroad  to  remain  in 
definitely.  Then  the  bitter  knowledge 
forced  itself  upon  me  that,  without  a 
word,  you  had  cast  me  off,  and  that  our 
secret  must  be  kept  at  no  matter  what 
cost  to  me.  This  is  my  story  —  my 
reply  to  your  accusation.  What  is  your 
answer  to  me  ?  " 

Although  every  word  and  tone  car 
ried  conviction  with  it,  Evelyn  steeled 
herself  afresh  against  him,  as  she  broke 
233 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


forth  with  the  fire  and  passion  of  her 
girlhood,  — 

"  Your  suffering  is  as  a  feather-weight 
in  the  scale  of  mine!  What  can  you,  a 
man,  know  of  the  shame,  the  degrada 
tion  that  I,  a  mere  girl,  endured  for 
years?  And  yet  I  broke  a  good  man's 
heart  when  I  told  him  that  I  had  loved 
only  once ! " 

Lafonte  made  a  hasty  step  toward 
her,  but  she  waved  him  back,  and  went 
on  more  calmly,  — 

"Therese  and  I  went,  as  you  directed, 
to  Mobile,  and  there,  for  two  awful 
weeks,  I  waited  for  your  coming.  I 
was  becoming  less  able  to  travel,  but 
we  dared  not  stay,  as  the  woman  in 
whose  house  we  were  grew  suspicious, 
and  plied  us  with  questions  we  could 
not  answer.  Finally  The'rese  decided 
that  it  would  be  better  to  return  to 
Virginia;  she  knew  of  a  quiet  spot  in 
the  mountains  where  her  brother  had 
234 


Face  to  Face 

been  employed  as  a  miner.  The  com 
pany  had  failed,  and  the  mine  had  been 
abandoned,  but  he  still  remained  there. 
To  that  refuge  she  proposed  to  take 
me,  and  accordingly  we  set  out.  The 
memory  of  that  journey  is  a  confused 
one;  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  it  would 
never  end.  A  constant  fever  consumed 
me,  and  the  thought  of  your  desertion 
was  driving  me  mad.  One  day  we 
reached  the  handful  of  houses  called  a 
village  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tain.  TheVese  and  I  took  breakfast,  such 
as  it  was,  in  a  little  cabin  inhabited  by 
these  mountaineers,  who,  in  their  simple 
way,  made  us  welcome.  She  insisted 
that  I  should  remain  there  while  she 
went  around  the  base  of  the  mountain 
where  she  thought  to  find  her  brother's 
cabin.  I  dreaded  to  have  her  go,  and 
for  two  days  I  stopped  there  alone. 
The  third  day  a  sort  of  frenzy  seized 
me,  and  I  decided  I  would  try  to  find 
235 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


The'rese.  I  procured  a  rough,  two-seated 
wagon  and  induced  the  owner  to  drive 
me  up  the  mountain.  A  thunder-storm 
came  up  suddenly;  the  horses,  young 
and  badly  broken,  became  terrified 
and  bolted,  throwing  out  the  driver.  I 
caught  the  reins  and  tried  to  guide  them, 
but  only  for  a  few  rods,  when  I  was 
thrown  violently  to  the  ground.  I  knew 
nothing  more  until  I  woke  to  conscious 
ness  days  after  in  a  little  cabin  where  a 
kindly  slave  woman  had  cared  for  me 
through  an  illness  that  was  nigh  unto 
death!" 

"Oh,  my  darling,7'  the  man  cried 
impulsively,  "  how  you  must  have  suf 
fered!" 

"What  was  the  bodily  pain  to  the 
anguish  of  my  soul,"  —she  answered 
bitterly,  —  "the  soul  that  has  never 
ceased  to  feel  its  shame.  Enough  of  that. 
When  I  recovered  I  found  The'rese, 
nearly  distracted  by  my  absence,  at  the 
236 


Face  to  Face 

foot  of  the  mountain,  and  together  we 
went  back  to  the  plantation  on  the 
James  River.  The  night  that  I  arrived 
my  father  died.  His  death  at  that  time 
changed  all  my  life  —  Hush,  what  was 
that  sound  ?  " 

"  Only  the  silver  clock  on  the  mantel 
striking  the  quarter,"  said  Lafonte.  "It 
is  almost  midnight." 

Evelyn  sprang  to  her  feet.  She  had 
forgotten  that  she  had  betrayed  this 
man.  The  hour  for  which  she  had 
longed  with  such  revengeful  passion 
was  almost  at  hand.  Could  she,  now, 
do  this  thing?  "  He  saw  her  great  eyes 
soften  and  glow  as  they  were  raised  to 
his;  he  opened  his  arms  and  she  fell 
blindly  into  his  embrace  as  she  cried,  — 

"  Gaspard,  my  love,  my  love !  I  must 
save  you  before  the  clock  strikes 
twelve !  " 


Chapter  XIII 

At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

"  WHAT   do  you  mean  ?  "  asked   La- 
fonte  in  amazement. 

"  You  have  been  followed.  This 
house  is  watched,  and  you  are  in  danger 
of  arrest  the  moment  you  attempt  to 
leave  it." 

"  How  did  you  obtain  your  informa 
tion?" 

"  From  the  person  who  gave  the  or 
der,"  she  said  calmly,  her  indomitable 
courage  coming  to  her  aid  as  she  met 
the  penetrating  glance  of  his  eyes. 
"  There  is  no  time  for  explanation ;  we 
have  not  a  moment  to  lose.  How  did 
you  gain  admittance  to  the  house?" 

"With  Cicero's  help.    I   signaled  to 
him,  and  we  came  in  by  the  north  side 
door  to  which  I  have  a  pass-key." 
238 


At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

"  Thank  heaven  !  Give  it  to  me." 

"  But,  Eve,  dearest,"  — 

She  had  vanished  through  the  door 
way  before  he  had  time  to  complete  the 
sentence.  In  a  brief  minute  she  returned 
carrying  The*rese's  long  black  cloak, 
which  she  flung  around  him. 

"  Come  with  me,  and  step  softly,"  she 
whispered,  clasping  his  hand  in  hers. 
"  You  must  go  out  the  way  I  came 
in,  —  through  the  conservatory,  which 
is  not  lighted.  Outside  the  door  stands 
my  carriage.  Jump  inside  it  and  crouch 
down  on  the  floor,  covering  your  head 
and  shoulders  with  the  cloak  I  gave 
you." 

They  had  made  their  way  swiftly 
through  the  darkness,  and  Evelyn 
opened  the  outer  door  of  the  conserva 
tory,  past  which  ran  the  carriage  road. 
Petit  Jean  sat  on  his  box,  stamping  his 
feet  to  keep  them  warm.  She  turned 
the  knob  of  the  carriage  door  so  gently 
239 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


that  the  man  did  not  even  look  around, 
and  Lafonte  buried  himself  inside  as 
she  gave  the  order  to  the  servant. 

"  Drive  slowly  around  to  the  front 
door  and  await  me  there,"  she  said. 

With  breathless  haste  she  stole  back 
to  the  room  she  had  just  left  and  glanced 
at  the  clock.  It  was  seven  minutes  to 
twelve. 

Taking  Lafonte's  gloves,  which  lay 
on  the  table,  she  ran  into  the  hall  and 
dropped  them  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 
Then  she  went  to  the  side  door  and 
locked  it  carefully,  placing  the  key  in 
the  bosom  of  her  gown.  Drawing  her 
furs  around  her,  she  walked  to  the  front 
door  and  stepped  outside,  being  careful 
to  close  it  behind  her.  There  stood  the 
carriage,  and  as  she  entered  it  a  figure 
which  she  recognized  dashed  around 
the  corner  of  the  house.  With  a  steady 
hand  she  let  down  the  window  and 
leaned  out,  facing  the  new-comer. 
240 


At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

"You  have  just  three  minutes,"  she 
said,  as  Bennett  bared  his  head  respect 
fully.  "I  would  try  the  side  door  by 
which  he  entered,  first.  But  be  careful 
to  get  away  with  your  prisoner  before 
Mrs.  Pegram  returns,  which  she  may  do 
at  any  moment.  How  many  men  did 
you  bring?  " 

"Three,  madam;  two  are  with  me; 
'one  stationed  at  the  gate  below." 

"  And  the  word  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"  Massachusetts !  " 

"Thanks;  good-night." 

The  carriage  rolled  swiftly  along  to 
the  gates  of  Dalkeith.  Petit  Jean  paused 
for  an  instant  as  Evelyn  gave  the  coun 
tersign,  and  then  her  low  laugh  of  tri 
umph  was  smothered  on  Lafonte's  breast 
as  he  rose  and  clasped  her  to  his  heart. 

Out  on  Linden  Avenue  the  old  Cre 
ole  kept  her  watch  faithfully.  Twelve 
o'clock,  then  one,  sounded  from  the 
clock  of  a  church-tower  near  by,  but  it 
241 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


had  almost  time  to  strike  again  before 
Tante  Therese  heard  horses'  feet  click 
on  the  cobblestones  at  her  door.  She 
crept  softly  to  open  it;  to  her  infinite 
surprise  two  figures  came  hastily  up  the 
narrow  steps  and  into  the  house  instead 
of  the  one  she  had  expected. 

"  Mon  Dieu  I  "  she  gasped,  as  Evelyn 
threw  her  arm  around  her  neck  and 
whispered,  — 

"Tante  The'rese,  it  is  he,  Gaspard; 
do  you  hear?  And  all  is  explained. 
You  must  hide  him  in  the  room  above 
till  I  come  to-morrow,  and  then  we  will 
get  him  away  in  safety.  Do  you  un 
derstand,  Tante  Therese?"  and  she 
stamped  her  foot  imperiously  at  the 
bewildered  and  enraged  old  woman. 

"I  hear,"  she  muttered.  "What  did 
I  say,  mon  coeur?  M'sieu  le  General 
has  the  persuasive  tongue;  oh,  yes,  he 
has  used  it  often  before." 

"  The'rese,  how  dare  you  ?  Do  not 
242 


At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

mind  her,  Gaspard;  she  is  old,  but" — 
suddenly  changing  her  tone  —  "she  is 
faithful." 

"  Always,  to  thee,  mon  cceur,"  came 
the  humble  answer;  but  Evelyn  did 
not  see  the  baleful  glance  shot  at  La- 
fonte  under  the  bushy  eyebrows  as  the 
woman  lit  a  candle  in  silence  and  pre 
pared  to  take  her  visitor  upstairs. 

"  I  will  come  to-morrow  as  early  as  I 
can.  Guard  him  as  you  would  your  life, 
Therese,"  said  Evelyn,  and  in  a  moment 
more  she  left  the  room  and  the  house. 

General  Lafonte  followed  the  Creole 
up  the  narrow  stairs,  and  was  ushered 
into  a  small  but  exquisitely  neat  room 
where  stood  a  bed,  a  table,  and  several 
chairs.  Therese  walked  over  to  the  win 
dows  and  drew  the  shades,  closing  the 
blinds  also.  Then  she  set  the  candle  on 
the  table  and  addressed  him. 

"  It  is  some  years  since  we  met, 
M'sieu  le  General,"  she  said.  "  When  I 
243 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


saw  you  last  you  were  making  plans  to 
have  a  marriage  ceremony  performed. 
You  have  satisfied  Mam'selle,  grace 
de  Dieu,  but  you  have  still  to  answer 
to  me  for  your  base  desertion  of  the 
child  I  reared  and  love  so  well." 

She  spoke  in  rapid  French,  with  an 
air  of  dignity  which  struck  Lafonte, 
and  appealed  to  him  as  no  furious  out 
break  would  have  done.  Therefore  he 
answered  her  with  courtesy  and  pa 
tience.  As  Evelyn  had  said,  she  was 
old  but  faithful. 

"Sit  down,  The'rese,"  he  replied, 
handing  her  a  chair,  and  seating  him 
self  as  he  spoke. 

"  Merci,  M'sieu ;  I  prefer  to  stand." 

But  he  insisted,  and  in  as  few  words 
as  possible  repeated  the  story  of  his 
accident  on  the  Mississippi  River,  the 
detention  in  the  hospital  in  New  Or 
leans,  and  his  search  for  Evelyn  after 
ward.  The'rese  listened  with  an  out- 
244 


At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

ward   air  of  much  respect.    Inwardly, 
she  was  laying  her  plans. 

"  Could  M'sieu  but  have  seen  Mam'- 
selle  that  night  on  the  mountain,  —  he"- 
las !  It  was  moonlight,  and  I,  distracted 
that  I  was  by  her  disappearance,  had 
gone  to  the  door  of  the  cabin  where 
my  brother  had  made  shelter  for  us,  — 
I  thought  I  heard  a  sound  of  feet  in  the 
still,  still  night.  Oh,  those  horrible  silent 
woods,  and  the  mountain  high  above! 
I  can  see  them  now.  The  moon 
showed  the  shadows  more  plainly,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  that  one  of  them  was 
moving.  Behold,  it  came  nearer,  and  it 
was  Mam'selle,  in  her  long  black  gown, 
so  tall,  so  white,  so  like  a  spirit  that  I 
thought  it  was  her  ghost  until  she  sprang 
into  my  arms  sobbing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break.  M'sieu  should  have  seen 
his  work  that  night  as  I  saw  it." 

"  Good  God,  woman,  have  I  not  told 
you  that  I  did  all  in  my  power"  — 
245 


A  ^Javelin  of  Fate 


"But  yes,  M'sieu;  —  men,  the  best 
of  them,  know  not  how  women  suffer. 
Mam'selle  did  not  recover  from  the 
shock  of  her  accident  and  the  birth  of 
the  child  for  months  "  — 

"A  child,  The*rese!  Was  there  a 
child  born  to  me  ?  "  he  cried,  absolutely 
stunned  by  this  revelation. 

The  woman  looked  at  him  through 
her  half-closed  eyelids;  she  knew  now 
where  to  strike. 

"I  should  not  have  spoken, — pardon, 
M'sieu.  If  she,  Mam'selle,  did  not  tell 
M'sieu,  it  is  not  my  place  to  give  infor 
mation." 

Lafonte  sprang  from  his  chair  in  un 
controllable  agitation.  A  child,  —  Eve 
lyn's  child  and  his,  —  the  thought  was 
supreme  happiness.  Was  his  lonely  life 
to  be  consoled  at  last,  his  starving  heart 
fed? 

"  Answer  me,"  he  said  sternly.  "  Was 
it- born  dead?  Why  do  you  seek  to  tor- 
246 


At  the  Stroke  of  Twelve 

ture  me  by  withholding  what  I  have  a 
right  to  know  ?  " 

"  It  was  born  alive,  M'sieu.  It  was 
a  girl.  More  than  this  I  do  not  know. 
M'sieu  must  ask  Mam'selle.  I  have, 
without  intention,  spoken  when  I  should 
have  been  silent.  I  ask  pardon.  If 
Mam'selle  wished  M'sieu  to  know,  she 
would  no  doubt  have  told  him." 

She  had  planted  her  sting  neatly;  she 
saw  him  color  hotly,  and  heard  the  half- 
uttered  oath  below  his  breath.  She 
rose  and  curtsied  respectfully. 

"I  hope  M'sieu  will  sleep  well.  He 
need  have  no  fear  of  arrest;  The'rese 
always  obeys  Mam'selle.  Good-night, 
M'sieu." 


Chapter  XIV 

The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

THE  morning  had  dawned  clear,  bright, 
and  frosty,  before  Gaspard  Lafonte 
closed  his  eyes.  At  last  the  heavy 
sleep  of  fatigue  came  to  him,  and  The'- 
rese  knocked  twice  at  his  door  before 
he  replied  to  her.  She  brought  him 
the  usual  French  breakfast  of  rolls  and 
coffee,  and  with  it  a  note  from  Evelyn, 
which  he  tore  open  as  soon  as  the 
Creole  left  the  room.  In  it  she  said 
she  could  not  come  to  the  house  before 
afternoon,  but  she  implored  him  to  stay 
in  hiding  until  she  had  perfected  her 
plans  for  his  escape  from  the  city. 

"  I  am  coming  to  you,  my  own,"  she 

wrote,  "  the  moment  I  am  released  from 

entertaining  some  guests.    How  I  hate 

them  you  may  imagine,  —  as  I  hate  any- 

248 


The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

thing  that  keeps  me  from  your  dear 
embrace,  —  so  longed  for  all  these  hor 
rible,  maddening  years.  Keep  saying 
over  and  over  '  she  is  coming,'  and  be 
fore  you  know  it  I  will  be  with  you." 

But,  notwithstanding  her  promise,  it 
was  late  when  the  Vansittart  carriage 
appeared  at  Therese's  door.  Petit  Jean 
admitted  her,  and  she  went  at  once  up 
stairs,  only  pausing  long  enough  to  tell 
the  Creole  that  all  was  going  well,  and 
to  bid  Petit  Jean  to  admit  no  one;  her 
carriage  would  wait. 

Never,  even  in  the  days  of  her  girl 
hood,  had  Evelyn  been  so  beautiful  as 
at  that  moment,  and  Lafonte  fell,  as  of 
old,  under  the  spell  of  her  marvelous 
fascination.  It  was  with  a  start  that  he 
finally  recollected  what  The'rese  had 
told  him,  and  there  was  a  joyous  ring 
in  his  voice  as  he  said,  — 

"  And  so,  Eve  darling,  there  was  a 
child,  —  a  little  girl.  Tell  me  where  she 
249 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


is  that  I  may  clasp  both  my  treasures 
to  my  heart." 

She  had  been  smiling  up  in  his  face, 
and  at  first  did  not  catch  his  meaning. 
Then,  to  his  infinite  surprise,  he  saw 
her  look  change.  A  sort  of  frozen  hor 
ror  crept  into  her  eyes;  she  turned  pale 
even  to  her  lips  as  she  gasped,  — 

"A  child,  Gaspard?  I  do  not  under 
stand  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"Our child,"  he  said  tenderly.  "Can 
you  not  imagine  what  that  means  to 
me  ?  The'rese  told  me  "  — 

"  The'rese ! "  She  tore  her  hands  from 
his,  and  stood  coldly  defiant  before  him. 
"  Indeed !  And,  pray,  what  did  she  say 
to  you  ?  " 

His  look  of  utter  astonishment  stung 
her,  but  she  waited  for  his  answer. 

"  Surely  you  cannot  misunderstand 
me  ?  She  said  that  we  had  a  living 
child,  a  girl.  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 
250 


The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

It  was  the  same  pitiless  tone  which 
he  had  heard  the  night  before.  His  face 
grew  stern  as  he  listened,  but  he  con 
trolled  himself  admirably. 

"Eve,  look  me  in  the  face  and  tell 
me  the  truth." 

She  raised  her  eyes  with  her  usual 
superb  courage.  She  had  not  lied  to  a 
dying  man,  —  why  do  so  now? 

"  You  wish  the  truth,  —  well,  you 
shall  hear  it.  There  was  a  child,  born 
of  your  sin  and  mine.  Do  you  think  I 
would  ever  look  in  its  face  again?  I 
left  it  there  in  the  mountains,  and  I  pray 
God  that  it  is  dead." 

"  Eve !  "  he  gasped.  "  Are  you  hu 
man?  Even  the  wild  creatures  of  the 
fields  and  jungles  love  their  young.  Do 
you  not  love  yours  ?  " 

Where  had  she  heard  words  like 
these  before?  Who  had  said  that,  she 
wondered  dully? 

"  I  have  but  one  child,"  she  said,  — 
251 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


and  each  word  fell  clear  and  cold  as  ice 
on  the  man's  tortured  heart,  —  "Cecile 
Vansittart.  Ask  me  no  more." 

He  looked  at  her  in  silence.  Pale 
with  concentrated  passion,  he  seized  her 
hands. 

"Is  that  your  last  word?  Then  hear 
mine.  If  our  child  lives,  I  command 
you  to  find  her.  Until  you  do  we  are 
strangers." 

With  a  gesture  of  utmost  scorn,  Eve 
lyn  turned  from  him  and  walked  toward 
the  door.  A  despairing  cry  burst  from 
him:  - 

"  Eve,  Eve,  for  God's  sake,  consider 
what  you  are  doing." 

For  one  brief  second  her  step  fal 
tered,  —  she  half  turned  toward  him. 
Then  she  bowed  her  head,  and  without 
a  word  left  the  room.  Listening,  he 
heard  the  clatter  of  her  horses'  feet  as 
she  was  driven  rapidly  away. 

Lafonte,  exhausted  from  the  terrible 
252 


The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

disclosures  of  the  past  twenty-four  hours, 
threw  himself  on  the  bed  and  tried  to 
think  out  clearly  what  his  next  move 
could  be.  He  knew  that  he  must  return 
to  his  command  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  that  when  night  fell  he  could  escape 
from  the  city.  Evelyn  had  assured  him 
that  all  was  safe,  but  now  he  chafed  un 
der  the  necessity  of  accepting  her  assist 
ance.  He  had  his  own  means  of  evading 
the  authorities,  and  he  resolved  to  use 
them  as  soon  as  darkness  enabled  him 
to  venture  into  the  streets  of  Baltimore. 
So  thinking  he  fell  asleep. 

The  street  lamps  were  burning  dimly, 
and  night  had  fallen  when  he  woke. 
Some  one  was  rapping  on  his  door,  and, 
seizing  his  revolver  from  beneath  his 
pillow,  he  unlocked  and  opened  it. 

"Is  M'sieu  ready? "asked  Therese. 
"  Petit  Jean  says  all  is  arranged.  Will 
it  please  M'sieu  to  descend?" 

He  followed  her  down  the  stairs  where 
253 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  man  stood  waiting;  then  he  turned 
back  and  pressed  a  paper  intoThe'rese's 
hand. 

"  Give  that  to  Mam'selle,"  he  said. 
"It  contains  an  address  that  will  always 
reach  me.  Adieu."  And  beckoning  Pe 
tit  Jean  to  follow,  he  passed  out  into  the 
night. 

TheYese  stood  in  the  doorway,  look 
ing  eagerly  up  the  street.  At  the  corner 
she  could  see  two  dark  figures  just  be 
yond  the  lamp. 

"  Not  in  my  house,"  she  muttered ; 
"  I  will  keep  my  oath  —  so  far.  But 
perhaps  we  will  not  need  this  address 
which  M'sieu  has  intrusted  to  me." 

Lafonte  and  his  companion  had 
reached  the  corner,  and  were  about 
to  turn  it,  when  the  two  men  whom 
The'rese  was  watching  closed  in  upon 
him.  There  was  an  instant's  struggle,  a 
shot,  then  another,  and  Bennett,  spring 
ing  out  from  his  concealment  to  the 
254 


The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

assistance  of  his  comrades,  laid  his  hand 
on  Lafonte's  shoulder. 

"  Do  not  compel  me  to  cripple  you, 
general,"  he  said,  picking  up  the  re 
volver,  which  had  fallen  in  the  scuffle. 
"  Here  are  my  orders." 

Lafonte  glanced  at  the  paper  extended 
to  him.  By  the  light  of  the  lamp  he 
read : — 

WAR  DEPARTMENT,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
Arrest  General  Gaspard  Lafonte,  and 
send  him  to  Fort  McHenry,  thence  to 
Fort  Lafayette.      By  order, 

EDWIN  M.  STANTON, 

Secretary  of  War. 

Petit  Jean  had  been  struggling  vio 
lently  with  one  of  the  men,  not  recog 
nizing  Bennett,  who  wore  his  uniform, 
and  he  took  advantage  of  the  pause  to 
slip  off  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry 
him.  Having  no  idea  of  Therese's 
treachery,  the  honest  fellow  thought 
255 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


that  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  notify 
Madame,  in  whose  wonderful  power  he 
had  the  firmest  faith,  and  he  set  off 
to  carry  the  information  of  General 
Lafonte's  capture,  going  by  the  most 
circuitous  route  lest  he  should  be 
tracked.  In  this  way  much  time  was 
lost,  but  when  he  finally  reached  Mt. 
Vernon  Square,  he  perceived  at  once 
that  something  unusual  was  taking 
place.  There  were  lights  flying  to  and 
fro  in  the  upper  chambers  of  the  Van- 
sittart  house,  and  before  the  door  stood 
a  doctor's  gig.  Petit  Jean  stole  back 
into  the  alley  and  sought  the  stable. 
No  one  was  there;  he  could  hear  the 
murmur  of  voices  in  the  kitchen,  and 
he  crept  cautiously  to  the  door,  think 
ing  to  find  Stephanie.  From  where  he 
stood  he  could  hear  her  voice,  relating 
some  story  between  her  sobs.  Then  he 
distinguished  Scip's  tones. 

"  De  good  Lawd  knows  I  done  tole 
256 


The  Mills  of  the  Gods 

Peter  nebber  to  let  dose  young  bosses 
go  outer  de  stable  do'  widout  de  heavy 
curb  bits,"  he  groaned.  "  But  Peter 
was  on  de  box  wid  de  madam  all  de 
evenin',  an'  dat  fool  Andre  took  li'le 
Missy's  message  to  come  quick  wid  de 
coupe  'caise  she  mus'  go  an'  meet  Marse 
Tilghman  at  de  Calvert  Street  station, 
an'  so  Jacques  jes'  hitched  up,  an'  was 
'round  to  de  front  do'  befo'  I  could  get 
in  my  livery  cote,  an'  dat 's  how  dey  all 
got  off  widout  me." 

"Yes,"  sobbed  Stephanie,  as  Petit 
Jean,  forgetful  of  all,  pushed  his  way 
inside,  and  joined  the  group  of  fright 
ened  servants.  "Jacques  says  that  at 
the  corner  of  Saratoga  and  Liberty 
streets  a  boy,  unrolling  a  parcel,  let 
the  white  paper  fly  out  of  his  hand,  and 
the  wind  carried  it  directly  into  the 
face  of  one  of  the  horses.  He  shied, 
then  both  of  them  bolted  down  that 
steep  hill  to  the  corner  of  —  what  you 
257 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


call  —  oh,  Lexington  Street,  where  was 
coming  a  heavy  coal  cart.  The  coupe 
struck  the  cart,  and  was  overturned 
with  Mam'selle  inside,  and" —  Here 
Stephanie's  voice  failed  her. 

Petit  Jean  leaned  forward. 

"Just  one  little  mark  on  her  pretty 
temple,"  sobbed  the  girl.  "  The  doctor 
says  she  was  dead  when  Jacques  lifted 
her  up.  Ciel!  do  you  hear  that?" 

Through  the  house  rang  a  shriek  of 
mortal  agony.  Petit  Jean  crossed  him 
self  devoutly,  and  fell  upon  his  knees 
rocking  to  and  fro,  as  Evelyn  Vansit- 
tart's  voice  sounded  down  the  hall  with 
a  heartbreak  in  every  tone, — 

"  Oh,  God,  my  child,  my  child! " 


Chapter  XV 

The  Rankest  Rebel 

IT  was  spring  in  the  land,  —  that  spring 
of  1865  which  told  the  end  of  the  great 
Civil  War.  Richmond,  the  beleaguered 
city  of  the  South,  bleeding  in  every  pore, 
but  fighting  gallantly  to  the  last,  had 
surrendered;  and  from  both  North  and 
South  there  went  up  to  heaven  a  sigh 
of  relief  that  the  long  tension  of  years 
was  ended.  The  Monumental  City  was 
rent  in  twain  between  joy  for  her  boys 
in  blue  and  grief  for  those  who  had 
worn  the  gray.  Among  the  women  who 
did  not  hesitate  to  express  their  feelings 
was  Miss  Susan  Lindsay. 

Sitting   in  her  parlor  one    morning 

with  two  of  her  intimate  friends,  she 

was  holding  forth   to   most  interested 

listeners.    For  Miss  Sue  had  had  her 

259 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


experience  of  what  it  was  to  be  at  issue 
with  the  government,  and  it  was  by  no 
means  to  her  liking. 

"You  heard,  my  dear,"  she  said, 
addressing  Mrs.  Pegram,  "  that  I  was 
swooped  down  upon  and  whisked  off  to 
Fortress  Monroe  before  I  had  time  to  say 
Jack  Robinson  or  put  on  a  clean  collar. 
And  I  never  knew  until  yesterday  who 
supplied  the  information  that  sent  me 
there.  Never  mind  his  name,"  —  with 
an  indignant  sniff,  —  "I  shall  get  even 
with  him  sooner  or  later,  —  poor,  mis 
erable  white  trash  that  he  is,  —  he  can 
wait.  You  know,  Augusta,  that  I,  as 
well  as  a  good  many  other  women  here 
in  town,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war 
had  the  Confederate  flag  painted  on  the 
inside  cover  of  my  watch.  I  presume 
you  have  yours  on  at  this  minute, 
haven't  you?"  pausing  in  her  speech 
to  gaze  regretfully  at  the  emblem  which 
Mrs.  Pegram  displayed  with  pride.  "  I 
260 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


was  standing  that  morning  at  the  win 
dow,  having  just  finished  my  breakfast, 
when  I  saw  Cousin  James  Henry  come 
limping  up  the  steps,  and  I  went  out  to 
the  door  to  save  his  coming  further,  as 
I  strongly  suspected  he  had  a  message 
for  me  from  Champe,  who  was  off  again 
on  one  of  her  scampers  to  Richmond. 
He  pushed  me  inside  in  a  hurry,  and 
said:  i  Susan,  I  can't  stay  a  minute,  for 
I've  been  trying  to  distance  the  pro 
vost  marshal.  Some  one  has  lodged  in 
formation  against  you,  and  they  will  be 
sure  to  search  the  house;  so  get  any 
thing  that  relates  to  the  Cause  out  of 
sight  as  fast  as  you  can ; '  and  off  he 
scuttled  down  those  steps,  and  I  rushed 
upstairs,  racking  my  brains  to  remem 
ber  what  on  earth  I  had  that  was  con 
traband  of  war. 

"  Martha,   my   maid,  —  one   of   pa's 
slaves,  who 's   taken   care    of   me   for 
twenty    years,  —  was    running    down- 
261  • 


A  Ravelin  of  Fate 


stairs  with  a  package  of  letters,  which, 
harmless  as  they  were,  —  only  filled  with 
family  details,  —  had  come  across  the 
lines.  I  told  her  to  stick  them  in  the 
kitchen  fire,  as  I  did  not  want  the  smell 
of  burning  paper  in  my  bedroom.  All 
of  a  sudden  I  remembered  my  watch 
and  that  telltale  flag.  Where  on  earth 
could  I  hide  it  from  those  hateful,  pry 
ing  Yankees  ?  I  could  n't  throw  it  away, 
and  there  was  no  time  to  bury  it  in  the 
yard,  as  we  did  the  silver  on  the  plan 
tation,  and,  as  I  was  expecting  to  hear 
the  doorbell  ring  every  minute,  what 
do  you  suppose  I  did  ?  " 

She  paused  dramatically,  with  up 
raised  hand. 

"What?"  gasped  Mrs.  Pegram  and 
Mrs.  Lovell  in  the  same  breath. 

"  I  sat  down  deliberately  and  licked 
it  off  I" 

Gravity  was  impossible  with  Miss 
Sue's  dancing  eyes  in  evidence,  and 
262 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


both  women  shrieked  with  laughter,  in 
which  she  joined. 

"  I  wonder  it  did  n't  poison  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Pegram  as  soon  as  she  could 
speak. 

"Well,  I  did  have  my  doubts,  so  I 
was  busy  scrubbing  my  tongue  when 
the  provost-marshal  appeared.  Did  n't 
I  have  fun  with  him,  though!  I  gave 
him  my  opinion  on  a  good  many  sub 
jects  before  he  got  me  into  a  carriage 
and  carried  me  down  to  the  boat." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,"  said  Mrs.  Lovell. 
"  I  only  wish  I  could  have  heard  you." 

"  You  see,"  continued  Miss  Sue, 
"  there  's  a  heap  of  difference  between 
these  volunteer  Yankee  soldiers  and  the 
regulars,  —  especially  those  officers  who 
belonged  to  the  old  army.  Pa  lived  and 
died  under  the  Stars  and  Stripes, —  sim 
ply  because  the  Stars  and  Bars  had  n't 
been  born  in  his  lifetime,  —  and  I  can 
just  tell  you  that  when  I  reached  Old 
263 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


Point  and  happened  to  strike  some  of 
the  men  who  'd  gone  back  on  their 
States  and  hung  on  to  Uncle  Sam's 
coat-tails,  they  were  mighty  kind  and 
polite  to  me.  There  never  was  such 
a  fool  thing  as  dragging  me  off  and 
arresting  me,  anyhow.  They  could  n't 
prove  a  thing  against  me  as  long  as  I 
had  attended  to  the  watch,  which  might 
have  been  evidence  of  my  proclivities, 
and  they  had  to  send  me  back  after  I  'd 
put  in  three  weeks  in  a  casemate  at  the 
Fort.  But  there  was  one  Yankee  young 
ster  who  really  made  an  impression  on 
me.  He  was  a  gentleman." 

"  What  did  he  do  for  you  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Pegram. 

"  It  was  at  City  Point  this  happened, 
one  chilly  March  day.  I  was  on  board 
the  boat,  which  was  to  transport  a  lot 
of  other  unfortunates  like  myself  to  Fort 
Monroe,  where  a  wise  and  beneficent 
war  secretary  was  sending  us.  I  had 
264 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


on  an  old  bombazine  gown,  which  I 
p'intedly  adhered  to  during  my  cap 
tivity,  and  I  had  tied  a  white  worsted 
nubia  over  my  Fanchon  bonnet  to  keep 
my  ears  warm  —  which  that  ridiculous 
bonnet  did  n't  accomplish.  Altogether 
I  expect  I  did  look  like  an  antiquated 
frump,  not  at  all  a  female  to  attract  a 
young  man  by  my  personal  beauty.  As 
I  sat  there,  all  huddled  up,  on  the  deck, 
a  vender  came  along  the  dock  with  a 
tray  full  of  just  the  nicest  looking  real 
old  Virginia  plum-cake.  For  the  mo 
ment  it  made  me  downright  homesick, 
and,  without  thinking  where  I  was,  I 
said  aloud,  '  Oh,  how  I  do  want  a  slice 
of  that  plum-cake ;  I  have  n't  seen  any 
such  for  years ! '  I  was  too  far  away  to 
call  the  man,  but  I  watched  him  selling 
it  to  a  party  of  men  on  the  dock:  pre 
sently  I  forgot  all  about  it.  Just  as  the 
boat  was  to  start,  a  tall,  mighty  hand 
some  fellow  in  Yankee  uniform,  with 
265 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


the  yellow  stripes  of  the  cavalry,  ap 
proached  me.  You  need  n't  look  horri 
fied,  Augusta;  I  do  know  a  good-looking 
man  when  I  see  one,  even  if  he  has  the 
misfortune  to  wear  detestable  colors. 
He  marched  up,  took  off  his  cap,  laid 
a  white  paper  parcel  in  my  lap,  and 
without  a  word  dashed  back  over  the 
gang-plank.  When  I  opened  the  par 
cel,  there  was  a  generous  supply  of  the 
plum-cake  I  'd  been  wishing  for." 

"  I  hope  you  threw  it  overboard," 
said  Mrs.  Lovell  indignantly.  "  It  was 
in  miserable  taste,  —  so  bold  and  push 
ing  on  his  part." 

"  That  was  just  it,"  returned  Miss 
Sue,  with  a  queer  sparkle  in  her  eye 
which  Mrs.  Pegram  appreciated.  "  If 
he  had  n't  been  bold  I  should  probably 
have  thrown  it  at  him,  instead  of  which 
I  ate  it  down  to  the  last  crumb,  and 
was  sorry  I  could  n't  thank  him  for  his 
kindness  to  an  unknown  cake-hungry 
266 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


frump.  Have  you  heard  from  your 
brother  lately,  Augusta?" 

"  The  last  letter  was  from  Fort  La 
fayette,"  answered  Mrs.  Pegram.  "  He 
is  well,  though  very  tired  of  the  con 
finement.  We  hope  to  have  him  at  lib 
erty  ere  long.  Where  is  Champe,  Sue  ? 
I  thought  she  would  be  coming  up 
soon." 

"  I  should  be  awfully  worried  about 
Champe  except  that  Peyton  is  with  her. 
They  were  at  Danville  by  last  accounts, 
and  are  working  up  that  way,  I  think. 
You  know  she  left  Richmond  on  the 
last  train  that  came  through.  I  only 
wish  I  did  know  where  she  is  to-day." 

"  Don't  worry,  Sue.  Champe  has  the 
faculty  of  falling  on  her  feet.  Good-by, 
and  be  sure  you  come  out  to  Dalkeith 
on  Wednesday." 

It  is  rather  a  blessed  thing  that  one's 
wishes  are  not  always  gratified,  as,  in 
this  particular  instance,  Miss  Sue's  de- 
267 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


sire  to  know  Champe's  whereabouts 
would  have  brought  her  dire  dismay. 
For  that  daring  young  woman,  at  the 
very  moment  when  her  beloved  relative 
was  sighing  for  knowledge,  happened 
to  be  seated  on  a  wood-pile,  where,  with 
her  head  pillowed  on  a  nice  clean  pine 
knot,  she  was  fast  asleep. 

The  wood-pile  was  located  near  a 
station  on  the  Richmond  and  Danville 
Railroad,  and  the  fact  that  a  fire  was 
raging  not  far  from  her  was  a  mere 
trifle  in  Champe's  estimation  compared 
with  her  obtaining  a  nap.  From  which 
it  may  be  inferred  that  she  was,  as  us 
ual,  taking  the  chances  with  a  reckless 
disregard  of  consequences  which  was 
eminently  characteristic. 

Leaving  Richmond  with  her  brother, 
she  had  gone  to  Danville,  where  they 
stayed  until  after  Lee's  surrender  at 
Appomattox.  And  now  they  were  mak 
ing  their  way  North  to  the  nearest  out- 
268 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


post  of  the  Union  army  in  order  to 
return  to  Baltimore.  Many  had  been 
Champe's  adventures  on  the  way,  and 
the  cause  of  their  present  detention 
was  the  burning  of  a  railroad  bridge  at 
Clover  Station,  which  compelled  them 
to  cross  the  river  on  a  bateau.  For 
tunately,  on  the  northern  side  Peyton 
had  discovered  a  hand-car,  which  had 
been  seized  by  two  darkies  for  their 
own  use,  who,  however,  being  amenable 
to  reason  backed  by  two  silver  dollars, 
were  induced  to  accompany  them  and 
push  the  car.  Champe's  small  trunk 
was  mounted  on  it  to  be  used  as  a  seat, 
but  as  the  novel  cavalcade  was  about 
to  start  on  its  travels,  one  of  the  wheels 
proved  insecure,  and  Peyton,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  negroes,  was  repairing 
it.  Hence  the  nap  on  the  friendly  wood 
pile. 

"Wake  up,  Champe,"   said    Peyton 
with  a  hearty  laugh,  helping  her  to  de- 
269 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


scend  from  her  perch.  "  Your  prancing 
steed  is  ready,  and  I  think  we  can  man 
age  to  make  the  next  station,  where, 
perhaps,  the  trains  are  running  again." 

Champe  mounted  into  the  hand-car 
and  sat  on  the  trunk,  and  they  contin 
ued  their  journey,  keeping  up  a  most 
amusing  interchange  of  banter  over 
their  varied  adventures.  Five  miles 
were  made  in  this  fashion,  and  then,  as 
they  began  to  feel  decidedly  hungry, 
arose  the  question  of  foraging  for  din 
ner. 

"  I  cum  frum  de  oder  side  ob  de  rib- 
ber,  Marse,"  said  one  of  the  darkies, 
"but  Jim  done  tole  me  dis  mawnin'  dat 
dere's  a  white  folks  house  'roun'  hyar 
whar  he  cum  frum." 

"  How  far  away  ?  "  asked  Peyton. 

"Not  fur,  Marse,"  spoke  up  Jim; 
"  roun'  de  next  curve  —  see! " 

Peyton  looked  in  the  direction  pointed 
out,  and  could  distinguish  the  chim- 
270 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


ney  of  a  house  between  the  trees,  so 
the  men  trudged  cheerfully  along,  and 
in  due  time  they  came  to  a  standstill 
nearly  opposite  the  welcome  habitation. 
Leaving  Peyton  to  guard  the  car,  lest 
the  men  should  take  advantage  of  their 
absence  and  abscond  with  the  trunk, 
Champe  climbed  down  and  walked 
briskly  across  the  fields,  from  which  the 
fences  had  disappeared,  and  nearing  the 
house  she  beheld  a  woman,  wearing 
a  pink  sunbonnet,  standing  on  the 
porch.  Champe  waved  her  handkerchief, 
and  received  an  answering  friendly  sig 
nal.  Peyton,  watching  them  from  his 
post  of  observation  on  the  car,  saw  the 
two  rush  into  each  other's  arms  as 
Champe's  face  was  buried  in  the  pink 
sunbonnet. 

"Champe  Randolph!  Well,  I  never 
was  so  glad  to  see  anybody  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life,"  gasped  its  owner. 

"  Murray  Leigh,  where  did  you 
271 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


come  from  ?  "  was  the  answering  query. 
"  And,  what 's  more  to  the  purpose, 
what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Waiting  for  a  chance  to  get  escort 
to  Baltimore.  I  knew  some  of  our  peo 
ple  would  be  sure  to  take  this  road 
north,  and  I  came  here  straight  from 
Richmond  because  the  owners  of  this 
place  are  some  of  our  kinsfolk.  Is  that 
your  brother  out  there  in  that  hand-car? 
Well,  of  all  the  droll  conveyances  1 
But  I  don't  care ;  I  'm  going  with  you 
if  I  have  to  walk  behind  and  help  push 
it" 

"  We  won't  require  you  to  do  that," 
laughed  Champe.  "  At  the  present  mo 
ment  I  'm  out  for  forage.  Can  you  help 
us?" 

"  We  are  just  about  to  take  our  noon 
day  meal  of  corn  pone  and  buttermilk," 
said  Murray  with  mock  ceremony, 
"and  cordially  invite  Mr.  and  Miss 
Randolph  to  come  and  assist  us  to  make 
272 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


way  with  it.  Oh,  Champe,  the  very  last 
chicken  we  had  was  carried  off  by  a 
perfectly  horrid  weasel  last  night,  and 
I  nearly  wept  when  I  found  its  tail- 
feathers  reposing  down  under  that 
cherry-tree,"  and  she  pointed  with 
tragic  finger  to  the  scene  of  the  theft. 

"  Be  thankful  it  was  n't  a  perfectly 
horrid  Yankee  who  confiscated  it;  the 
bare  idea  of  delicious  buttermilk  makes 
me  thirsty.  Have  you  anybody  whom 
I  can  send  to  watch  that  car  while  Pey 
ton  joins  us  ?  " 

"Not  a  soul;  our  last  boy,  Jim, 
marched  off  yesterday.  He  has  period 
ical  disappearances,  however,  and  may 
turn  up  again." 

"  I  presume  that 's  the  very  darky  up 
on  the  track  with  our  car.  We  picked 
him  up  at  the  river." 

"  Then  I  want  him,"  said  Murray, 
preparing  to  rush  off  and  capture  the 
runaway.  "  Have  him  bring  up  your 
273 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


trunk,  and  we  can  manage  a  room  for 
you.  Peyton  can  have  the  lounge  in 
the  parlor,  and  you  can  stop  here  over 
night,  and  we  '11  plan  some  way  to  go 
off  together  to-morrow." 

It  was  a  merry  party  that  sat  down 
to  eat  corn  pone  and  drink  butter 
milk,  notwithstanding  their  precarious 
situation  and  lack  of  many  necessities. 
Murray's  cousins  were  eager  to  have 
news  of  any  sort,  and  they  made  their 
new  acquaintances  heartily  welcome. 
On  inquiry,  Peyton  found  that  a  neigh 
bor  of  the  Leighs  might  be  able  to 
provide  him  with  a  more  comfortable 
conveyance  than  the  hand-car,  and  that 
the  nearest  Union  outpost  was  Meherrin 
Station,  the  camp  of  the  Sixth  Corps. 

After  a  good  night's  rest  and  break 
fast  Champe  came  flying  down  next 
morning  to  find  a  most  unique  estab 
lishment  in  front  of  the  door.  It  con 
sisted  of  a  Tennessee  wagon  to  which 
274 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


were  harnessed  a  horse  and  a  mule 
abreast,  and  a  second  horse  leading 
tandem.  Mr.  Williams,  the  friendly 
neighbor,  had  provided  as  escort  his 
overseer  and  a  negro  driver,  who  rode 
the  horse.  Inside  the  wagon  stood  two 
rocking-chairs,  which  Champe  declared 
were  a  stroke  of  genius,  and  an  im 
provement  on  the  hand-car.  Peyton 
and  the  overseer  perched  themselves 
on  the  trunk,  Champe  and  Murray  took 
possession  of  the  chairs;  and  with  many 
grateful  thanks  the  little  party  pursued 
their  journey. 

Late  that  afternoon,  Jack  Phillipse, 
whose  regiment  belonged  to  the  famous 
Sixth  Corps,  rode  over  to  headquarters 
with  a  message  from  his  colonel  to 
General  Meade.  On  his  way  back,  as 
he  was  passing  the  quarters  of  the  Sixth 
Vermont  Regiment,  he  saw  a  queer- 
looking  vehicle,  in  front  of  which  rode 
an  old  darky  wearing  a  much-patched 
275 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


red  coat,  and  carrying  a  white  handker 
chief  on  a  long  stick.  The  sentry,  who 
was  laughing  heartily,  brought  his  gun 
to  salute,  and  endeavored  to  recover 
his  gravity  as  the  officer  drew  up  along 
side.  Jack  looked  at  the  conglomerate 
quadrupeds,  and  the  ancient  retainer 
who  bestrode  one  of  them,  but  with 
instinctive  courtesy  to  the  inmates  of 
the  wagon,  whom  he  took  to  be  South 
ern  refugees,  he  said  gravely, — 

"  Can  I  be  of  service  ?  " 

As  his  eyes  caught  sight  of  the  rock 
ing-chairs  he  bit  his  lip  to  conceal  a 
smile;  but  the  next  instant  the  waiting 
sentry  saw  his  officer  snatch  off  his 
gauntlet,  and,  cap  in  hand,  bend  from 
his  saddle  to  take  a  small  hand  ex 
tended  to  him. 

"  Good-evening,  Captain  Phillipse," 
said  Champe  politely. 

"  By  Jove !  "  quoth  Peyton  Randolph 
to  himself,  as  he  sprang  from  the  wagon. 
276 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


"  That 's  devilish  quick  of  Champe. 
She  must  have  taken  a  good  look  at 
him  that  night  at  Conrad's  Ferry. 
Thank  heaven,  he  won't  recognize  her." 

Jack,  whose  bronzed  face  had  turned 
scarlet  with  surprise  and  delight,  re 
covered  himself  as  he  met  a  warning 
glance  from  the  hazel  eyes,  but  he  was 
still  too  bewildered  to  do  more  than 
repeat  his  offer  of  service  as  he  shook 
hands  with  Peyton,  who  asked  to  be 
taken  to  General  Meade's  headquarters, 
as  they  wished  to  surrender  in  due  form. 

"  Certainly,  I  will  go  with  you,  Mr. 
Randolph;  but  if  the  ladies  will  drive 
to  the  building  used  as  our  hospital, 
they  can  be  better  accommodated  there 
than  in  the  tents  which  we  usually  fur 
nish.  The  mess  of  my  regiment  is  there 
also,  and  I  hope  you  will  all  join  us 
at  supper." 

Peyton  thanked  him,  and  Jack  rode 
with  the  little  party  to  the  hospital, 
277 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


where  he  left  them  with  the  surgeon 
in  charge,  and  then  sought  General 
Meade. 

Champe  and  Murray  found  them 
selves  very  comfortably  placed  in  a  big 
room,  rather  lacking  in  furniture,  but 
provided  with  two  beds,  and  scrupu 
lously  clean.  But  the  movement  around 
the  hospital,  the  changing  of  the  guard, 
the  soft  sound  of  distant  bugles  in  the 
little  world  of  camp  life,  made  Champe 
feel  sad  and  lonely,  and  when  Peyton, 
who  evidently  did  not  approve,  came  to 
consult  her  as  to  their  going  to  supper 
in  the  mess-room,  she  laughed  at  his 
scruples  and  went  cheerfully  down 
stairs,  glad  to  be  diverted  from  the 
softened  mood  which,  for  some  reason, 
she  feared. 

Fortunately   for   Peyton's    peace    of 

mind,  Murray  devoted  herself  to  him, 

and  it  was  left  to  Champe  to  meet  the 

officers,    including  the  colonel,  which 

278 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


she  did  with  an  easy  grace  and  apparent 
oblivion  of  their  hated  Yankee  uniforms, 
which  made  Jack  admire  her  more  than 
ever,  for  he  knew  how  few  Southern 
women  would  have  made  such  a  sacri 
fice  even  to  good  manners.  And  some 
how  a  faint  ray  of  hope  was  thereby 
vouchsafed  him,  and  he  registered  an 
inward  vow  that  he  would  dare  fate  on 
the  first  opportunity.  That  opportunity 
came  sooner  than  he  had  hoped  for. 

After  supper  the  colonel  proposed 
that  for  the  amusement  of  their  guests 
a  double  quartette  of  the  enlisted  men 
of  his  regiment  should  be  sent  for,  and 
for  nearly  an  hour  they  listened  to  the 
songs  the  war  had  called  forth.  Finally 
the  colonel  glanced  at  his  watch,  and 
rose.  Some  good  angel — or  perhaps 
the  little  god,  Dan  Cupid  —  may  have 
whispered  in  his  ear,  for,  to  Jack's  sur 
prise  and  infinite  gratitude,  he  said, 
addressing  Peyton,  — 
279 


A  yavelin  of  Fate 


"  If  you  will  walk  over  to  my  tent 
with  me,  Mr.  Randolph,  the  papers 
which  you  require  will  be  ready  for 
signature." 

"  Let  me  find  my  hat,  colonel,  and 
I  '11  join  you  at  the  door,"  said  Peyton, 
vanishing,  and  the  courtly  old  officer 
turned  to  Champe,  - 

"  There  is  one  pretty  sight  you  should 
be  made  acquainted  with  that  we  can 
offer  you.  Phillipse,  when  it  is  time  for 
1  taps '  take  Miss  Randolph  to  the  ve 
randa  on  the  south  side,  and  let  her  see 
the  whole  camp  answer  the  call.  Good 
night." 

Champe's  color  rose.  Two  officers 
with  whom  she  had  been  talking  stood 
either  side  of  her,  and  had  heard  the 
colonel's  innocent  little  trap  sprung.  If 
she  refused  to  go,  they  would  consider 
it  a  snub  for  Jack,  and  she  had  n't  a 
shadow  of  an  excuse  ready,  not  even 
a  cold.  Murray  was  talking  to  one  of 
280 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


the  singers,  and  had  not  heard.  Jack's 
pleading  eyes  met  hers  for  an  instant. 
Better  have  it  over  at  once,  —  she 
always  did  hate  Yankees ! 

"  If  you  come  now,"  said  Jack  ea 
gerly,  past  caring  whether  he  gave  him 
self  away  to  his  brother  officers,  "  we 
shall  be  just  in  time." 

Out  on  the  veranda  the  scene  was  a 
novel  one.  Below,  and  stretching  away 
in  the  distance,  lay  hundreds  of  white 
tents  with  twinkling  lights.  There  was 
the  hum  and  stir  of  a  multitude  in  the 
air,  softened  and  subdued  by  distance; 
above,  the  stars,  and  around  them  the 
soft  atmosphere  of  a  Southern  spring. 
Champe  felt  the  sadness  and  the  longing 
again  steal  upon  her  with  overwhelming 
power,  and  as  Jack  spoke  her  name  she 
startled  him  and  herself  by  bursting  into 
tears. 

"  Champe,  Champe,"  he  caught  both 
her  hands,  "what  is  it?" 
281 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


"  It 's  —  nothing,"  sobbed  Champe 
desperately.  "  You  made  me  come,  and 
I  '11  never  forgive  you,  —  never!  " 

"Never  is  a  long  time,"  said  Jack 
with  cheerful  assurance,  gathering  her 
up  in  his  arms,  "  and  I  am  going  to 
spend  part  of  it  in  telling  you  that  I  love 
you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  Ve  known  that  for  some  time," 
answered  a  disdainful  voice  somewhere 
in  the  region  of  his  coat-sleeve,  "  but 
what  I  don't  know  is  whether  I  hate 
you  quite  enough  —  for  a  Yankee." 

"  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  be  hated," 
retorted  triumphant  Jack,  kissing  the 
pretty  little  ear  which  alone  was  visible. 
"Anything  more  you  wish  to  be  assured 
of  before  you  deign  to  look  at  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  in  a  small  voice  that  quavered 
suspiciously;  "promise  that  you '11  never 
tell  Peyton  that  I  locked  you  up  in  the 
secret  chamber  at  the  plantation." 

"Never!" 

282 


The  Rankest  Rebel 


"And — Jack,"  he  smiled  as  he  re 
cognized  the  mischievous  inflexion, 
"you  must  always  let  me  have  the 
Stars  and  Bars  flying  in  my  room." 

"  You  may  have  a  whole  stand  of 
them  in  the  front  hall,"  promised  Jack 
recklessly,  "  but  they  '11  have  to  float 
side  by  side  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
my  darling." 

Out  on  the  night,  far  in  the  distance 
sounded  the  bugles.  "Put  —  out  —  the 
—  lights."  Champe  raised  her  head  and 
kissed  him  on  the  lips. 

"Jack,"  with  a  little  sigh  of  deep  con 
tent  as  she  laid  her  head  on  his  shoul 
der,  "I  don't  know  what  you  think  about 
this,  —  and  you  probably  won't  believe 
me,  —  I  call  it  an  '  unconditional  sur 
render.'  " 


Chapter  XVI 

The  Javelin  Strikes 

THE  anteroom  leading  to  the  office  of 
the  Secretary  of  War  was  full  to  over 
flowing.  Since  the  surrender  of  Lee  and 
the  collapse  of  the  Confederacy  there 
had  been  an  increase  in  the  crowds  that 
came  to  the  War  Department,  and  the 
patience  of  the  "  Iron  Secretary "  was 
taxed  to  the  utmost.  But  on  this  spring 
morning  the  attention  of  many  of  the 
visitors  was  drawn  to  one  of  their  num 
ber,  a  very  beautiful  and  regal-looking 
woman  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and 
accompanied  by  an  old  French  servant 
who  watched  her  with  the  deepest  so 
licitude.  To  the  surprise  of  the  waiting 
crowd,  the  strange  lady,  after  a  brief 
fifteen  minutes,  was  approached  by  a 
bowing  official,  and,  greatly  to  the  envy 
284 


The  Ravelin  Strikes 


of  those  who  had  spent  days  of  fruitless 
effort  to  obtain  an  interview,  she  was  at 
once  passed  through  the  sacred  portal, 
leaving  her  attendant  in  the  anteroom. 

As  Evelyn  Vansittart  entered  the  Sec 
retary  rose  and  came  forward  to  meet 
her  with  great  cordiality. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  he  said,  conduct 
ing  her  to  a  seat,  "why  did  you  not  send 
me  word  you  were  in  town?  I  would 
have  come  to  your  hotel,  and  need  not 
have  given  you  the  annoyance  of  wait 
ing  in  the  crowd  who  daily  torment 
me." 

"  I  came,"  answered  Evelyn,  "  be 
cause  I  have  a  personal  favor  to  ask, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  more  appropriate 
that  I  should  seek  you  than  you  me." 

"There  is  no  favor,  Mrs.  Vansittart, 
that  you  could  ask  which  would  be  in 
any  way  a  fit  return  for  the  very  great 
service  you  have  rendered  the  govern 
ment.  It  was  only  made  known  to  me 
285 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


recently,  that  to  your  clever  and  well- 
planned  organization  I  owe  much  val 
uable  information  obtained  from  rebel 
sources,  and  you  must  permit  me  to 
express  my  genuine  admiration  for  your 
work,  and  to  extend  my  individual 
thanks  for  your  patriotism  and  gener 
osity." 

Evelyn  surveyed  him  a  moment  in 
silence. 

"  Do  not  credit  me  with  too  much 
patriotism,"  she  replied;  "it  was  more 
the  excitement  of  the  game.  Where 
the  pawns  on  the  boards  are  human 
lives,  Mr.  Secretary,  the  hazard  of  the 
moves  is  its  fascination." 

He  fixed  a  penetrating  glance  upon 
her.  This  was  a  woman  after  his  own 
heart. 

"  And  the  favor,  dear  madam,  which 
you  came  to  ask  ? " 

Evelyn  hesitated  for  a  second,  and 
the  man,  watching  her  behind  those 
286 


The  Javelin  Strikes 


eye-glasses  which  served  admirably  to 
conceal  his  thoughts,  smiled,  and  said, — 

"  It  is  granted." 

She  turned  pale,  as  if  under  great 
stress  of  emotion. 

"  I  will  not  tax  your  time  and  patience. 
I  wish  to  take  a  short  trip  into  the  moun 
tains  of  Virginia,  and  as  I  am  told  it  is 
a  most  unsafe  thing  to  do  in  the  present 
unsettled  state  of  the  country,  I  came 
to  request  that  you  give  me  an  escort, 
—  a  military  one,  if  necessary.  Is  it  too 
much  to  ask  ?  " 

The  Secretary  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  but  though  evidently  surprised 
he  said, — 

"No;  it  can  be  arranged.  When  do 
you  wish  to  go?" 

"As  soon  as  possible.  On  the  result 
of  my  mission  depends  the  life  and 
health  of  one  very  dear  to  me.  I  have 
suffered  much,  —  I  can  endure  no 


287 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


"  You  have  my  deepest  sympathy," 
he  began,  then  waited,  as  he  saw  the 
agony  that  filled  her  beautiful  eyes. 

She  put  out  her  hand  as  if  to  ward 
off  a  blow. 

"I  thank  you;  but  I  cannot,  even 
yet,  discuss  it.  There  are  griefs  we 
must  bear  alone.  Of  such  is  mine." 

She  paused  to  regain  the  composure 
she  had  momentarily  lost.  Then  she 
handed  him  a  slip  of  paper. 

"I  have  written  the  locality,  so  far  as 
I  know  it,  and  this  is  the  memorandum. 
May  I  ask  how  soon  my  escort  can  be 
ready  ?  " 

"  In  two  days,"  replied  the  Secretary, 
glancing  at  the  paper.  "  Are  you  stay 
ing  at  Willard's?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  will  call  on  you  there  to-morrow, 
and  if  there  be  anything  further  that  lies 
in  my  power  to  arrange  for  you,  com 
mand  me." 

288 


The  Javelin  Strikes 


He  took  Evelyn's  hand  in  farewell, 
and  she  knew  that  once  again  a  man  — 
and  a  great  one  —  had  yielded  to  her 
charm  and  fascination.  But  as  she  left 
the  room  the  astute  Secretary  said  to 
himself,  — 

"That  woman  has  a  secret  which  no 
one  will  ever  share." 

When  Evelyn  returned  to  her  hotel 
she  went  directly  to  her  room,  and,  sit 
ting  at  her  desk,  wrote  a  letter  which 
she  addressed  to  Fort  Lafayette. 

"Gaspard,"  she  wrote,  "circum 
stances  and  you  have  conquered  me. 
Out  of  the  depths  where  my  soul  has 
been  plunged,  I  stretch  out  my  hands  to 
you.  I  am  going  into  the  mountains  to 
find  the  child  —  our  child,  Gaspard.  If 
she  be  alive  I  will  bring  her  to  you;  then 
will  you  take  me  to  your  arms  again  ? 
My  desolate  soul  cries  out  to  you. 
Come  to  me,  then,  my  love.  Why  should 
any  lesser  tie  separate  you  and  me  ?  " 
289 


A  jfaveiin  of  Fate 


She  sealed  the  envelope,  and  then  a 
thought  crossed  her  mind;  she  smiled 
with  a  touch  of  her  old  imperious  tri 
umph,  saying  half  aloud,  — 

"  The  Secretary  shall  forward  it  for 
me.  Even  the  censor  will  not  meddle 
with  an  envelope  that  bears  his  frank." 

With  the  magic  of  orders  signed  by 
the  all-powerful  War  Secretary,  and 
her  own  unlimited  money,  Evelyn  did 
not  find  her  journey  to  the  mountains 
as  difficult  as  she  had  expected.  She 
left  Tante  Thdrese  in  Washington  to 
await  her  return,  and  on  the  third  day 
from  starting  reached  the  little  village 
she  remembered  so  well.  As  she  came 
near  the  scene  of  her  former  terrible 
experience  she  found  herself  unwillingly 
going  over  each  detail  of  it.  Once  more 
she  saw  Aunt  Polly's  kindly  face  bend 
ing  over  the  old  cradle;  again  she  heard 
her  voice  saying,  - 

"  In  the  long  years  to  come  dose 
290 


The     avelin  Strikes 


baby  fingers  will  draw,  and  draw,  and 
pull  your  heartstrings." 

Ay,  the  slave  -  woman's  prophecy 
was  coming  to  pass.  Could  it  be  pos 
sible  that  the  child  she  had  forsaken 
and  scorned  would  unite  the  heart 
strings  that  had  snapped  asunder  when 
Cecile  lay  dead  in  her  youth  and  beauty 
before  her. 

It  was  a  sunny  May  morning  when 
Evelyn  started  to  go  up  the  mountain. 
She  left  her  escort  in  the  village  with 
the  exception  of  the  corporal,  whom  she 
took  with  her  in  the  wagon  she  had 
procured.  No  one  seemed  to  know 
anything  about  Aunt  Polly.  She  made 
many  inquiries  among  the  cabins  at  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  but  the  denizens 
thereof  only  shook  their  heads;  they 
remembered  no  such  person.  There 
were  some  people  who  lived  way  up 
on  Silver  Mountain,  one  of  the  men 
said,  but  no  one  answering  to  her  de- 
291 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


scription  of  Aunt  Polly  and  Uncle  Cy. 
Thdrese's  brother  was  dead,  and  his 
family  had  moved  away;  that  clue  was 
lost.  Evelyn's  heart  began  to  fail  her. 
Was  it  possible  that  she  really  cared  to 
find  the  child? 

Evelyn's  own  recollection  of  the  sit 
uation  of  Aunt  Polly's  cabin  was  vague. 
Beyond  that  wild  flight  down  the  moun 
tain  side  at  night  she  had  nothing  to 
guide  her  memory.  So,  when  they 
came  to  a  cabin  about  halfway  up,  Ev 
elyn  bade  the  driver  stop,  and,  climb 
ing  out  of  the  wagon,  went  to  its  door. 
A  rather  tidy  looking  woman  opened 
it;  she  was  evidently  a  mountaineer, 
but  she  proved  more  intelligent  than 
the  others.  Yes,  surely  she  did  remem 
ber  Uncle  Cy  and  his  wife,  for  her  sis 
ter,  Sabria,  had  nursed  her  when  she 
died,  two  years  ago.  And  Uncle  Cy, 
why,  he  got  killed  by  a  falling  tree 
afore  that. 

292 


The  Javelin  Strikes 


Evelyn's  heart  sank.  Where,  then, 
was  the  child  ?  She  dared  not  ask. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  the  old  cabin 
is?  "  she  said,  after  a  moment's  thought. 
"  I  think  I  would  like  to  see  it." 

"Why,  sho'ly,  lady;  it's  jus'  round 
the  bend  of  the  road  thar.  My  sister, — 
as  I  wuz  sayin',  —  she  that  tuk  care  o' 
Aunt  Polly,  —  she  's  livin'  in  that  cabin 
now.  She 's  a  lone  widder  woman, 
Sabria,  an'  Aunt  Polly's  darter  lives 
thar  with  her  —  jus'  them  two  critters." 

"Aunt  Polly's  daughter !"  exclaimed 
Evelyn,  her  heart  beginning  to  throb. 
"  She  never  had  any  children  that  I 
knew  of." 

"  Laws,  yes ;  that 's  what  we  'uns 
call  her.  But  Aunt  Polly  wa'n't  her 
real  mother.  She  allus  said  Mary  was 
adopted."  . 

Evelyn  put  out  her  hand  and  stead 
ied  herself  against  the  door-post.  Over 
her  heart  rushed  a  warm  pulsation.  It 
293 


A  "Javelin  of  Fate 


had  lain  frozen  in  her  breast  so  long 
that  the  new  sensation  frightened  her. 
But  her  self-control  returned,  and  after 
thanking  the  woman  she  walked  back 
to  the  wagon. 

"  I  find  that  the  cabin  I  am  looking 
for  is  just  around  the  bend  of  the  road," 
she  said  to  the  corporal.  "  I  will  walk 
there.  Wait  here  till  I  return." 

The  cabin  was  not  more  than  a  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  distant,  and  Evelyn  saw 
it  as  soon  as  she  reached  the  turn 
spoken  of.  The  trees  had  grown,  and 
the  cabin  looked  larger.  Yes,  there  had 
been  another  room  added;  and  as  she 
drew  nearer  she  saw  that  there  were 
some  flowers  growing  in  the  little  gar 
den.  She  walked  up  the  path  and 
knocked  gently  at  the  door.  There 
was  no  answer,  and  after  waiting  a  lit 
tle  time  she  rapped  once  more.  Then 
she  noticed  that  the  door  was  ajar,  and 
she  stepped  quietly  inside  the  cabin. 
294 


The  Javelin  Strikes 


The  room  was  empty.  How  familiar 
it  looked,  even  after  all  these  years. 
There  stood  the  old  lounge  against  the 
wall,  and  beyond  it  the  rocking-chair 
where  Aunt  Polly  used  to  sit  with  the 
baby  on  her  lap.  She  wondered  if  the 
little  room  she  slept  in  had  the  old 
cradle  in  it  still,  and  as  the  thought 
crossed  her  mind,  she  glanced  at  the 
door  which  led  into  it. 

Some  one  was  inside,  for  a  low  croon 
ing  noise  came  through  the  partly  open 
door.  Evelyn  walked  across  the  cabin, 
and,  pushing  the  door  open,  paused  on 
its  threshold.  On  the  floor  sat  a  girlish 
figure,  rocking  herself  to  and  fro,  play 
ing  with  a  string  of  threaded  scarlet 
berries.  In  her  hands,  long  and  shapely, 
her  small  head,  her  curved  throat,  her 
masses  of  dark  hair,  she  saw  repeated 
her  very  self.  Evelyn  uttered  a  low  cry, 
and  as  the  girl  raised  her  head,  she 
stepped  eagerly  forward.  There,  be- 
295 


A  Javelin  of  Fate 


neath  her  gaze  was  the  same  oval  face, 
the  clear  olive  skin;  but  the  great  soft 
eyes  which  met  hers,  —  what  were 
they? 

In  them  no  light  of  reason  had  ever 
dawned,  no  soul  was  ever  born;  and 
the  low  crooning  sound  that  issued  from 
the  soft  red  lips  was  only  meaningless 
babble. 

"  Ef  yo?  desert  yo'  own  little  baby  the 
Lawd  will  sutainly  punish  yo'  where  it 
hurts  most." 

Was  that  the  handwriting  on  the 
wall? 

With  unspeakable  horror,  Evelyn 
Vansittart  stood  for  a  moment  trans 
fixed.  Where  the  tragedy  of  her  life 
had  begun,  it  ended. 


(fflbe  Ritorrsibr 

Electrotyfxd  and  printed  J>y  H.  O.  Houghton  &•  Co. 
Cambridge,  Mast.,  U.S.A. 


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